Mamihlapinatapei
by Unproper Grammar
Summary: Edward, Gabriella's fiancee, wasn't meant to die a month before their wedding. He wasn't supposed to betray her in the worst way possible. And she was never meant to grow close to his best friend, Troy Bolton, the man she hated more than she loved Edward.
1. The Enemy

They had met at a wedding, ironically. She was seated at a table with her be-speckled best friend, Kelsi and she had been the link that had brought them together, knowing them from college. He was seated with his own good friends, the man with the crazy afro and the arrogant one with the blue eyes and sandy brown hair. They had conversed about basketball animatedly with one another, and when her companion left to go dance with one of the groomsmen, she was stuck with nothing to say to three strangers who seemed to have little interest in her.

She had tried making conversation, she really had. The man with the afro had been kind enough, but he was working up the courage to hit on one of the servers, so she let him be. The man with the blue eyes had immediately turned her off; she had said something to which he responded with a sarcastic remark, and from that moment she had decided that conversing with him was not on the agenda for the night.

He, however, was different; with his dark black hair and brown eyes. He smiled at her softly and joked with her; ignoring his two best friends and asking Kelsi to switch seats with him so that he could sit beside her so they could talk. Then the music swelled and the man with the afro departed in search of finding the server, damn everything, and asking her to take two minutes to dance with him. Shyly, she had looked through her eyelashes and smiled at him.

"Do you dance?" she asked and he shook his head. "Oh, come on!" she prodded, grabbing his hand and dragging him up. "Everyone dances!"

It turned out he was quite the graceful dancer, having taken ballroom lessons as a kid. He never stepped on her feet and he twirled her in a perfect motion. As she giggled to herself and felt her heart thump in her chest, she looked over his shoulder and found the blue eyed man staring at her, watching them waltz. She narrowed her eyes slightly before shrugging it off, turning away.

He asked her to dinner later that night, and the rest you could say, was history. Many more dates were had and a commitment was made. Eventually, a promise of forever was requested and the snowball began rolling.

Things had been set in motion for nearly six months. The church had been booked, the reception hall decorated. Linens and flower arrangements had been selected and they had chosen the band weeks ago. The menu had been decided upon and together, they had sampled over a dozen cake flavors. Her dress had been a creation of lace and ivory; it was simple, yet complicated and so elegant that looking at it for too long brought tears to her eyes. She was in love with the idea of marriage and so in love with him and everything was going to be so perfect.

And then a month before the wedding, he died.

---

**Mamihlapinatapei**

Yaghan, noun: a look shared between two people with each wishing the other will initiate something that which both desire, but neither wants to start.

---

"Everyone mourns differently," her mother said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Everyone goes about it in their own way and I completely understand and respect that. This is a difficult time for you and you need to do everything you can to heal and move on." She paused, surveying the large piece of machinery located on her daughter's lawn. "This, however, is not one of the ways I think is healthy."

"Mother," her daughter replied. She pulled the safety goggles over her eyes and took a deep breath. "I think this is the best possible way to go about it." She handed her mother a pair of her own goggles along with a set of headphones. "Put these on."

Her mother pressed a hand to her temples. "Gabriella, really, I do not think this a good idea."

Twenty-six year old Gabriella Montez flicked her gaze over to her mother and smiled slightly. Lifting her hands, she tightened her ponytail, making sure her dark black curls were out of her eyes. "Mom, as much as I appreciate the concern, I've given a lot of thought to this. I really think this is the most cleansing way to go about it. I've been in mourning for three months and now I need to start healing. So, either stand here and watch or go inside." She snapped on her pair of headphones over her ears and grabbed the first box, one of the many that lined the porch. As she descended the stairs, she turned to look at her mother over her shoulder. "You have thirty seconds before I turn it on."

Her mother's shoulders dropped in disappointment. "Don't destroy your past, Gabriella!" she shouted. "You'll never heal this way!"

Rolling her eyes, Gabriella booted up the wood chipper and into it, threw a large box of Edward's belongings. She let out a deep breath as she watched them turn into confetti. "It's my decision, mom!" she called back at the woman still standing on the porch of her large house, her hands covering her eyes.

"Oh, Gabriella," Maria Montez said with a sigh as she turned around to enter her daughter and her late fiancee's house. Where she had gotten this stupid idea, she would never be certain. One thing was for sure, it was a bad one and if she couldn't put a stop to it, she'd have to enlist someone who could.

Back on the front lawn, Gabriella was slowly removing button up shirts and throwing them into the wood chipper one by one. She had thought it would probably be better if she didn't put the cardboard boxes along with them into the wood chipper, just in case it jammed. She hadn't asked the men whom she rented the machine from if this was actually a purpose it could fulfill, but she just needed his things out of their house once and for all.

She closed her heavy eyelids and took a deep breath. It was so much harder to breathe without Edward there with her. Every time she did, she was met with the crushing reality that he was gone. He had left her. He had _died_. Everything had been going exactly to plan; they had been dating for three years, had been engaged for six months and had a beautiful home in Albuquerque, New Mexico. They had good friends and great careers and most importantly, they were in love.

Gabriella loved Edward, or Eddie, as she called him, with all of her being. She had never been so happy as she was in the days she spent with him. He was kind and caring, handsome and good and he loved her. He had promised her forever and he broke that promise. As awful as that was, she couldn't help but be a little bit angry with him for that. He had been the only person she had known who could pick up the pieces and now he had broken her. How was she to repair herself? She let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding and it hit her all over again.

He was gone.

She remembered the day she got the news more vividly than anything in her entire life. It was approximately one month before they were set to walk down the aisle and it was a Tuesday. He had woken before her, as usual, kissed her cheek and told her he loved her before showering and getting ready for work. She had gone downstairs and made coffee, reading the news paper and lounging before she departed later in the morning. He had joined her in the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water, kissed her goodbye and left.

That morning had been what might have been the tenth fitting for her bridesmaids. Her maid of honor, and best friend, Taylor Mckessie, was making sure than things were meticulous. But just as Kelsi came out of the fitting room in the light peach gown, her cell phone had rang. Seeing it was an unknown number, she furrowed her brow curiously and answered.

The speaker on the other line had been a hospital worker. Eddie had been in a car accident, a head on collision with a teenage driver, whom had left with only a few cuts and bruises.

Eddie, however, had died on impact.

That had been three months ago and only now was she finally able to pry herself out of her bed. Everything had gotten so heavy after that, everything so hard. She was all alone in their giant bed now and she clung to his scent, the only thing she had left. She took a leave of absence at her job as a columnist for a newspaper, and stopped answering the phone. Taylor still came by weekly, cleaning and making sure Gabriella ate at least something; the amount of weight she had lost was drastic.

Finally, one day, she realized that she wasn't going to wake up and realize that everything was all a dream. It was reality. Edward wasn't coming back, she was never going to marry him and she had to start all over. So she threw her legs over the bed and dragged herself to the shower. Then she ate a small breakfast and began to go through his things; the boxes that had been lining the hall since the week after his funeral. Taylor had taken the liberty of packing them in boxes, leaving Gabriella to decide how she wanted to go about dealing with them. Opening them she discovered, however, that his scent still clung to his clothes, his books, his paperwork, and while she had thought it to be comforting weeks earlier...it wasn't. She had decided that she couldn't live with them, with the memories and the smell and the life they once held. So she put the most important things in storage and then she rented the wood chipper.

It was an oddly satisfying feeling, chucking box after box of clothes, books, photographs and momentums into the machine and seeing them fly out in pieces in front of her. The neighbors peered out their windows and 'casually' walked by, giving her weird looks. They shrugged it off and moved on. _That Gabriella Montez_, they'd say sadly, _she just hasn't been the same since Eddie died. _

Damn right she hadn't been the same.

An hour later, she was on the twenty-seventh box—this one filled with wedding invitations that were going to be sent the next week—when a car pulled up. She flicked off the switch on the wood chipper and felt her body stiffen as she saw two figures step out of the car.

"Gabi!" a tall man with dark skin and curly brown hair said. He smiled, removing his aviators and brushing off his leather jacket. "What are you up to?"

Gabriella rolled her eyes slightly and smiled back. "Just doing some cleaning, Chad. Mourning. Moving on. Trying to heal." She repeated the words her shrink had fed to her in the weeks since Edward's death. She pulled her goggles over her eyes and rested them on her forehead, glancing at her visitors. "What brings you here?"

Chad Danforth had been friends with Eddie since childhood. He was a young, successful business man who had no girlfriend and at times claimed he was irrevocably lonely, but his strong friendships had gotten him through the days. He shared a small house across town with three of Eddie's other good friends, including the man he was with. The five of them had been a group so tightly knit that even Gabriella couldn't claim she was closer with Eddie than they were. She was never bitter about this fact, however. She had loved that her fiancee was so close with his friends; it proved how much of a loving person he truly was.

Since Eddie's death, Chad had assumed the role of Gabriella's caretaker. He did the 'manly jobs' around the house. Gabriella never called him, but her mother had put him on speed dial the week after the accident. He and Taylor often worked together, preparing her meals and trying to coax her into leaving the house. After several failed attempts, however, they had given up. It was no surprise to Gabriella that her mother had decided he needed to intervene in this situation. Even though it wasn't really a situation, but her mother clearly did not see that.

Chad opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut off. "Your mother called us," a voice from behind him said cooly and Gabriella felt herself bristle. She peered behind Chad and glared childishly.

"I believe I was asking Chad, whom I'm sure was the one she called and asked for," she said icily. "Not you, Bolton. "

Twenty-eight year old Troy Bolton shrugged, folding his arms over his shoulders. He was wearing a fitted black t-shirt and dark black jeans. He didn't respond, instead rolled his eyes to the heavens before staring at the ground. Gabriella bit her lip hard, almost drawing blood. Out of all the people in the world, he was last one she wanted to see, right at that moment or ever.

She hated Troy, had since she first met he, Chad and Edward at the wedding three years ago. He was a pompous asshole, in her opinion, cocky and arrogant. During the first year of she and Edward's relationship, he had never failed to make snide, sarcastic remarks to pretty much every single comment she made, and she had done the same for him in return. She and Troy just didn't 'click', they just didn't see eye to eye. Edward had lamented on about it endlessly, completely upset that she and one of his closest friends couldn't seem to find peace. Since she loved him, she had tried to make amends, tried making small talk and getting to know him. Things didn't seem to change, though, and one afternoon about a year and a half into their relationship and two weeks after Troy and Edward had returned from a business trip in Los Angeles, she had overhead Troy and Chad talking in the kitchen of the house they shared.

"Why don't you just give her a chance, man?" Chad had asked, popping the cap off his beer and taking a long drink. "Ed's serious about her and you can't even try and be civil."

Troy had shrugged. "Easier said than done; I'm not her kind of person. It's impossible to have a relationship of any sort with someone if they hate you," he admitted and Chad cocked an eyebrow.

"You're everyone's kind of person," he said, confused and Troy took a sip of his own beer.

"Yeah, well," Troy scoffed, peeling the label off his bottle. "Montez certainly isn't everyone."

At that, Gabriella had chosen to interrupt, stepping in the kitchen and inquiring what he meant by that. He smirked and rolled his eyes before pronouncing that she was a snooty bitch who thought she was better than everyone else. He gulped down the rest of his beer, slammed the bottle on the counter and left through the backdoor. She had stared at the spot he was standing in before throwing her hands up in frustration. That evening she and Edward had the worst fight they had ever had and she found out later that so had he and Troy. While she and Eddie reconciled the next day, he and Troy didn't speak for nearly a month.

Feeling guilty, Gabriella had called up Chad and asked what was going on between them, to which Chad sighed and said it was more complicated than Troy was willing to admit. He had left it at that and every single time she met with Troy after that, they had clashed. Spared. Exchanged words. Things between herself, Eddie and Troy hadn't been the same since and Eddie fought with the two of them (separately, but on occasion, together) about it constantly. Troy had been the one flaw in their perfect world. Now, he was standing before her, saying nothing, his eyes vacant and she wanted to smack him. Now that Eddie was gone, Troy should be gone. The lack of his presence would be the only positive from Eddie's death.

Chad sighed, but didn't address the situation. He was used to it by now. "So, what exactly does your mourning entail?" he asked, his brow furrowed. He looked at the wood chipper and the stacks upon stacks of boxes lining the porch. "Your mom said you were being destructive."

"I'm not being destructive!" Gabriella said slowly, seriously. "In order to repair these wounds, I need to eliminate anything in my life that could remind me of them. And that includes everything of Edward's lying around here as well as anything associated with the wedding."

Chad looked pained. "You're chopping up all of his stuff? But, Gabi...you can't erase him permanently."

"I'm not!" She said again, frantically running a hand through her hair. "I put some stuff in storage; I just can't deal with all of this stuff everywhere." She looked up at him with watery eyes. "He's_ everywhere_, Chad, everywhere. I can't get rid of him and I need to. I _need_ to."

She had remained composed the entire day and she was going to go through with this. She glared at Chad as hot tears pricked her eyes. Damn him for making her break.

Chad didn't say anything for a moment, his gaze fixed on Gabriella. He broke away before sighing heavily again. "You can't move on by destroying his stuff."

"You might as well just break apart the house piece by piece and throw it in there, too," Troy said casually and Gabriella glared. "He bought it for you, didn't he?"

"Shut the fuck up, Bolton, no one asked you!" She said, the blood in her veins pumping. She clenched her fists, feeling half moons curve into her palms from her nails.

"Don't start you, two," Chad scolded. "Seriously, this has been going on for three years. How many fights did the two of you have with Eddie over this bullshit. Just get along for like, two minutes, okay? 'Cause I really don't want to deal with it today."

He cast a tired hand over his face. "I'm going to go talk to Maria," Chad said, crossing the lawn to the front door. "Try not to kill each other while I'm gone."

Chad left, leaving Troy and Gabriella to their own devices. Troy shifted uncomfortably.

"So, how you holding up?" he asked and she was surprised by the question. Glancing at his face, she dismissed it; there was no way he was being genuine.

"Like you care, Bolton," she scoffed, walking back over to the piles of boxes stacked on her porch.

He stiffened, his mouth turning into a thin line. "Maybe I am a little concerned about how my dead best friend's fiancee is doing, okay? I'm not made of stone, you know."

She let out a laugh. "Oh, that's rich!" she practically shouted. "You and I both know we hate each others guts, don't even deny it, Bolton. Now that Edward's gone, you have absolutely no need to pretend to tolerate me. You didn't do it while he was here, so don't insult him by doing it now that he's gone."

He glared at her. "I know perfectly well where I stand with you, Montez."

"Exactly," she continued, ripping open a large white box and yanking a garment out of it. Troy's eyes doubled in size when he saw what it was.

"What are you doing?" he asked, anxiously. She was moving down the steps of the porch now. "You're not going to throw that in there, too, are you?"

"What the fuck does it matter?" she shouted. "I never got to wear it, I will never get to wear it and I can't stand to look at it!"

"Gabriella!" Troy said, letting her name slip from his lips. "Don't throw your wedding dress in there! You'll regret it!"

She was walking over to the wood chipper quickly now, attempting to dodge him, holding the beautiful gown to her chest. His heart clenched almost painfully as he saw the train of it drag in the dirt. He came to stand in front of her, grasping the dress with his fingertips, desperate to hold onto it. He couldn't let her do this, even if he couldn't stand the very sight of her, of _it_.

"Let me do what I need to do, Bolton!" she screamed. "Stop pretending to care!"

"I'm not pretending!" he yelled back and for a moment, he thought he saw something pass over her eyes. Something that told him that she finally understood. But like everything with he and Gabriella, the moment passed and fury replaced the look.

"I hate you," she said, her words like venom and he involuntarily flinched. "You know that, and we've been over this time and time again. I _loathe _you."

"Then why do you think it bears repeating?" he demanded. "Why are you telling me now?"

"Because you're in my way! You don't seem to understand that I don't want you, of all people, to try and stop me. I've always hated you, Troy," she spat and he found himself a little stunned by her use of his first name. It sounded so vile when slipping off of her tongue. "From the moment I met you at that wedding three years ago, I've hated you. I have no idea why Eddie was friends with you, why he continued to think of you so highly because you've shown me that you're nothing like he perceived you to be. I see you for what you really are, and it repulses me."

"Yeah?" Troy asked, stepping closer to her, clutching the dress and tugging. "And what's that, Montez? What do you see?"

She pulled on the dress and moved forward even more, the space between them almost completely diminished. He could feel her breath on his face and he swallowed, waiting for her answer. "You are nothing but a miserable coward. You've taken no chances in your life, doing exactly what your parents have expected of you and because of that, you haven't really lived." She said slowly and thickly, waiting for the words to seep into his skin. When she was certain they had, she continued. "You're jealous of all of the opportunities your friends have been granted, all the things they've been blessed with and given and because of that, it makes you hard and vulnerable and you hate it.

So in turn, you're an asshole. The only reason we've even interacted, the only reason I ever even began to tolerate you was Eddie." She swallowed roughly, her eyes brimming with tears. "And now that Eddie is gone, there is nothing I want more than to never see you again."

He didn't say anything, his jaw clenched. He dropped the part of the wedding dress he was holding, lifted his hands in surrender and stepped back. "Fine then, Gabriella," he hissed. "You do whatever the fuck you want and see if I give a shit."

Stomping away, she moved past Troy on the porch and brought the machine back to life before feeding the dress into the blades. Scraps of tulle, lace and satin flew through the air.

It looked like it was snowing.

As the debris fluttered to the ground and the last of what her life with Edward would have been like was destroyed, Troy spoke.

"For what it's worth, Gabriella," he said lowly, "I never knew what Ed saw in you anyways."

With that remark, he turned and entered the house.

---

Later that night, Gabriella was seated around the kitchen table, Chad, her mother and much to her dismay, Troy, sitting across from her. She rested her head in her hands, feeling dizzy and tired.

After entering the house, Troy told Maria and Chad what had just transpired and suggested that one of them go outside and retrieve her. Chad had been the one to do so, peeling a crying Gabriella off the porch where she was seated beside the remaining boxes; lifting her in his arms and depositing her into her bed. When he was certain she was asleep, he went downstairs to talk to Maria, having come up with an idea. After they thoroughly discussed it, he decided to do some cleaning while Maria prepared dinner. Troy had huddled himself up in Edward's old office, making business calls and writing e-mails using the old iMac. When Chad had asked him why he hadn't left, he shrugged and said that Chad was his ride home. Ignoring his friend's odd look, he explained the idea he had proposed to Maria and stated that he didn't really care if Troy approved or not, but that it would have been nice. Troy shrugged, his eyes blank and went back to tapping away at the keyboard.

Two hours later, they had requested Gabriella's presence, Chad dragging her out of bed, saying they had discussed some things and come to a rightful solution to her 'situation'. She had scoffed, saying that unless they had bartered with God and Edward was coming home, nothing could fix it. Chad had dragged her downstairs anyways.

"So, are any of you planning to tell me your brilliant plan?" she said rudely. "Or can I go to bed now?" She wanted nothing more than to curl herself back up in her warm sheets and pretend that everything was just a dream.

"Gabriella," her mother said, frowning. "Stop being disrespectful. Chad came up with an idea and I think you should hear him out."

"Gabi," Chad began slowly, surveying his friend. She looked so frail sitting in the large chair. "You're not moving on. You're not healing and you're need closure. So I'm going to present it to you."

She cocked an eyebrow, curiously. "Oh yeah?"

"You need to get out of this house," Troy interjected and she glared at him. He raised his hands defensively. "Whether you admit it or not, it's true and everyone present attest that."

"So?" Gabriella asked. "Where am I supposed to go? I'm stuck here, pinned beneath Edward's haunting spirit."

Chad rolled his eyes at Gabriella's dramatics. "Come stay with us," he proposed and Gabriella gave a sharp intake of breath. "We all loved and knew Edward better than anyone and we can all work on this healing thing together. You can stay in his old room, the one he stayed in before he moved in with you."

Since college, Edward had lived in a house across town with Troy, Chad and their two other childhood friends. It had been their own brotherhood, chock filled with all the good male things; video games, porn, junk food. As they grew, the house had matured with them. A room they had originally used for storage became Troy's studio, as he was a budding photographer. Another had been converted to Chad and Edward's office. A year ago, however, Edward and Gabriella had moved into the house they were currently in and the fabulous five had shifted. They had kept Edward's room, however, just because it wouldn't be the same if anything but his belongings and his body occupied the room.

She swallowed. "Do I have a choice in the matter?" She looked at her mother, whose eyes were filled with tears. She shook her head.

"No, darling," Maria said. "I think it's for the best if you stay there for at least a little while. Just go experience a side of Eddie you don't really know; the one his friend's saw. You all can reminisce and mourn together. I think it's a great idea."

Gabriella didn't say anything for a moment, wringing her hands together. "I need to get this place ready to sell, though," she said quietly. "I can't afford it on my own..."

Her mother placed a hand over her daughter's and squeezed. "Let me take care of that, sweetheart. You just work on being yourself again."

Biting her lip, Gabriella considered this. She couldn't stand to hold onto Edward's old belongings—how was she going to manage to stay in his room for so long? But she was curious and more than anything, she needed to get out of this house. Maybe this would bring the closure she needed, but allowed her to stay close to Eddie at the same time. Letting out a determined sigh, she looked up.

"Okay, I'll do it."

Chad broke into a huge grin and high fived Maria. "Fantastic!" he announced, standing up. "Okay, there's a lot to do and a little time to get it done. Maria, come with me, we need to discuss a few more things. Gabs, all you have to do is pack, okay?" She nodded slowly. "Okay then!"

Chad left the room excitedly, Maria on his heels, once again leaving Gabriella alone with Troy. What was he thinking about this? He had voiced his opinion on her need for closure, but nothing else. Chances were, he was just going along with it because he felt he owed Eddie. Gabriella glanced at him nervously. He stood slowly, and cracked his knuckles.

"I'll be going," he said, nodding at her. "I'm going to walk. It's a nice night."

She shook her head, feeling slightly bad for the words she had thrown at him earlier. "Let me call you a cab."

"No, it's fine, really." They were standing in the foyer now and he opened the screen door carefully before stepping out. Half way down the porch, he paused.

"I'll stay out of your way," he said quietly, his back to her. "You need to heal and despite the hate between us, I can respect that. I won't bother you and you can spend your time with the people who you feel truly loved and knew Edward."

"Troy," she began, but he cut her off.

"No, Gabriella," he said, hopping off the top step. He chuckled humorously, turning to face her. "You and I...we've never seen eye to eye and you know that, you've admitted as much. You don't need to pretend and act all sorry for something that's fact, especially since you're not really sorry for it."

She bristled. "That's not true, I–"

"Gabriella," Troy said, exasperated. "I'd enter a room and you'd turn and walk out the other way. You never signed the Christmas cards that Ed would send, even though a picture of you was on the front. There was always at least two people between us at dinners or gatherings and you'd hug and kiss everyone in greeting, yet skip me." His eyes glanced up to meet hers then and she inwardly shuddered, taken aback by the emotions pooling in them.

"I'm not foolish, I'm not blind and I'm not stupid. I've long ago accepted the relationship we have and I'm fine with it. You need to learn to heal and move on and if the only way you can do that is by staying with us, then so be it. You can come, chill with Chad and Jase and pretend I'm not there. After the next couple of weeks, you'll leave and I'll be out of your life for good. Just like you wanted."

With that, he nodded at her briskly and turned to walk away. Gabriella watched his retreating back, her stomach clenching painfully as her cheeks flushed in shame.

---

Hi, hi, hi! I know, I know, I know. I've been all over the place, why the hell haven't I been updating or posting anything? I've been busy and having a lot of stupid personal issues, all of which have slowly been resolved. School's almost out and I now have time to dedicate to writing, which is lovely. :)

This little project of mine is based on the movie 'Catch and Release'. Like with TDBU, it will have similarities to the original, but ultimately will have it's own voice. I'm very, very excited about this one and am currently finishing up the chapter plans. SO, THIS WILL BE FUN.

There's probably too many errors in this chapter; don't worry, I'll go back to correct them. I'm just anxious to get this one out there! You may have noticed; 'Our Sweet Decline' is gone. :( I'm just not in the mind set to write it just now, but it may come back in the future.

Fun fact: head over to my Livejournal and you'll find a track download for the song I listened to while writing this chapter. I'll be doing this for every chapter, compiling the story's mix as I go along.

Thanks for reading!!


	2. The Photographer

---

**Mamihlapinatapei**

Yaghan, noun: a look shared between two people with each wishing the other will initiate something that which both desire, but neither wants to start.

---

Pulling up the gravel drive, Gabriella felt apprehensive. It wasn't too late to go turn around and go home, she told herself. They would understand, they would have to understand.

It had been two weeks since Chad had proposed that she come stay with he, Troy and the others, and her earlier hesitance and transformed into pure dread towards the idea. Her mother had worked hard, getting the house up for sale and dealing with real estate agents and offers, while Gabriella had been left to her own devices. She decided what she wanted to hold onto out of their collection of furniture, appliances and knickknacks, putting them away in storage. She had packed up her clothing and several other important belongings in her bags and she found herself so preoccupied with everything that went along with packing that she wasn't concerned with what was going on downstairs at all. Edward was still on her mind, on the edge of every thought, every second of everyday, however, and the idea of spending time in a habitat that she knew nothing about that he had lived in for so long was scary.

How was she supposed to heal in an environment that had Edward written all over it? She had sliced and decided, chopped and chipped up all of his belongings; why did she think staying in a place where all of his things still remained fully intact was going to help her?

Sitting in the driver's seat of her silver car, she looked up at the big house. It was two stories tall with red brick and white window frames. There were dark, leafy green plants in the garden and in several hanging pots on the porch. A small balcony faced the street from the second floor and Gabriella cringed, knowing that was Eddie's former room. She sighed heavily before popping the trunk of her car, and stepping out.

The driveway was crammed with vehicles. There was Chad's sleek red convertible, the blue 1960's VW bug belonging to one Jeff Bloomburg and a beat up old black Honda that no doubt belonged to Jason Cross. Lifting her bags out of the trunk, Gabriella noticed that one automobile was missing; a large, rusty white pick up truck. She shrugged before making her way to the front door.

Digging through her pocket, she fished out the brass key Chad had given her the week earlier, telling her to just walk in, that it was her home now, too. Still feeling awkward, she placed the key back in her pocket and rang the doorbell.

Chad answered the door, grinning brightly. "Gabriella!" he exclaimed as she walked in the house, dragging her bags behind her. He threw his arms around her in an excited hug, before pulling back to grab her bags. "I thought I told you just to walk in! Come in, come in!" Gabriella cocked an eyebrow at his overzealous actions, as if the idea of playing host to her greatly pleased him. "The others are in the living room. We actually cleaned to prepare for your coming."

Gabriella laughed slightly and smiled, thankful for Chad's happy demeanor. Despite her qualms, he was right; her being here was the best thing possible for her right now. There had been a reason Eddie was so close with the men under this roof. They were kind, funny and dedicated and she was thankful for their help.

Even if one of them liked to push her buttons.

Entering the living room, she found two men sitting on the sofa watching a basketball game. Upon her arrival, they glanced up before breaking into grins themselves.

"Gabster!" one of them yelled, his dark hair flopping his eyes. "How are you doing?" He stood up and gave her a hug which she returned. She smiled at him.

"I'm doing well, Jason," she said, trying to mean the words. "As well as I can be doing."

He nodded solemnly. Jason was the basketball couch at the local East High School and had the disposition of a teenager, still. He had dated her best friend, Kelsi Nielson, for a year, but his fear of commitment had stopped them from ever becoming truly serious. He was the go to guy if you needed a party companion, however, and was brilliant at pool. Many a night did he and Eddie go to a local pub to play and sometimes Gabriella would join them, watching and acting as cheerleader.

Stepping away from Jason, she hugged the man next to him. "Jeff, it's good to see you," she said softly and felt the man's arms wrap around her.

"You, too, Gabi!" he grinned at her. Jeff was the final member of their five-some and had known them since high school. He had curly brown hair and his lanky body was constantly dressed in graphic tees with wild patterns and prints on them. He worked at an ink cartridge refill kiosk at the mall and was constantly lamenting for the affections of his co-worker, a stunning red-head majoring in film named Annabel.

"How are things progressing with Annabel?" Gabriella asked with a coy smile and Jeff blushed furiously.

"Oh, you know, you win some, you lose some," Jeff said, rubbing the back of his neck and Chad laughed over his shoulder as he began to walk into the kitchen.

"He can't work up the courage to say more than three sentences a shift to her," Chad said mockingly. "I'm going to get drinks, any of you want anything?"

Jeff flushed deeper and Jason joined in on the laughter. "Get us a beer, Chad!" he called, before glancing at Gabriella. "Oh, did you want a beer? I think that's all we have, to be honest."

Gabriella shook her head. "I'm fine, thanks." Living with four men was going to be interesting, especially if the only beverage they had in the house was beer.

"We do not just have beer here, Jason," Jeff said pointedly. "There's milk and water and I think Troy even bought some orange juice the other day."

Jason waggled his eyebrows. "And the vodka to go along with it."

"Would you two shut up?" Chad said, returning to the room with three beers and a bottle of water for Gabriella. "You're going to make her want to pack up her things and leave."

Gabriella smiled. "Don't worry, Chad, I don't mind. I don't know if I can thank you enough for letting me stay here."

"You can cook dinner," Jeff suggested. "None of us can cook that well."

Just as Gabriella was about to agree, Chad jabbed his friend in the ribs. "Jeff, it is her first night here and we will cook her dinner!" He grinned. "Then she can gladly take over for us."

Gabriella laughed, feeling a small spark of affection for the three men in front of her. There was a reason they were so close with Edward. They were wonderful. Before she could respond, however, the front door opened and a loud voice boomed through the hallways.

"All of you had better not need to go out later," the voice said, and Troy came in from the foyer, his head bent down as he flipped through a portfolio in his hands. "Cause I just blocked you in with my truck and there's no way in hell I'm moving it."

He glanced up then, suddenly realizing the commotion going on in the living room. When his eyes fell on Gabriella, he swallowed visibly and looked over at Chad.

"I thought you said she was coming at four," he said blankly and Chad closed his eyes before answering.

"She got here early."

Gabriella hardly appreciated how they were discussing her like she wasn't even there, but was even more jostled when Troy nodded, snapped the portfolio shut and turned on his heel, walking over to a staircase and heading up stairs. Ten seconds later the click of a door was heard and the four remaining occupants stood in silence.

Chad laughed nervously. "Um, you know how Troy is, um..."

"Forget it," Gabriella said calmly, clenching a fist around one of the bags Chad had dragged in with him. "Wanna give me a tour?"

As she followed Chad through the house, only half listening as he pointed everything out, she thought about Troy's quick departure. He was really sticking to what he had said two weeks ago; he really was making every effort to stay out of her way. Gabriella didn't know whether she should be thankful, offended or ashamed.

"And here," Chad said, stopping at a door near the end of the upstairs hallway, "Is Ed's old room."

He pushed open the door and Gabriella gasped, feeling the wind knocked out of her. Everything was exactly as he had left it the last time he had stayed here, which had been five months ago after a wild night with them. He had been too drunk to drive and Jason was feeling particularly unsympathetic as the designated driver and had refused to drive him home to Gabriella. Stepping into the room gingerly, she felt her heart pound in her chest.

She had only been in the room a handful of times. When they began their relationship, they were spend time at her old apartment or out on the town; it was easier that way. Any time she did come around the house, she and Troy shot venomous words at each other and everyone found they were in the crossfire of a situation they could do without. As such, everything seemed like a mystery, like a museum. Like she had studied the subject in books and now she was seeing it displayed in front of her.

Sensing her distress, Chad stepped back and began to close the door. "I'll let you settle in," he said softly, setting her bags on the ground. She nodded mutely before walking further into the room.

Feeling her being break and her head spin she crawled on top of the bed and felt her eyelids grow heavy. It was too much to deal with. Why had she thought this was a good idea? She couldn't do this now, she couldn't do this ever. Squeezing her eyes shut, she blacked out then; dreaming disjointed dreams about Edward and the house and blue eyes. She woke up disoriented hours later when a knock at her door sounded.

"Gabi?" Chad's soft voice came. "The guys and I are going out to get some things for dinner. Make yourself at home, okay?"

She didn't respond, but rather sat up in bed, feeling dazed and confused. She glanced around the room and felt everything crash upon her again. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she felt her legs grow numb beneath her. The room held so much of him, even more than the home they shared together. The walls were lined with framed photographs depicting scenes of his life. Photos of he and Chad when they played little league baseball together, another of he and Troy in college. Another of her own face, smiling back at the camera. She squeezed her eyes shut and flopped down on the blue plaid comforter, unable to remain sitting. It smelt musky and stale; like it hadn't been cleaned or slept on in quite some time. She cringed, realizing that though his scent didn't linger on the fabric, his being haunted the room.

He had a collection of baseballs lining a shelf above the bed and a small book shelf crammed with classic novels. Eddie loved to read; '_The Kite Runner'_, '_The Great Gatsby_', '_Grapes of Wrath_' and '_Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas_' all had a rightful spot on the wooden case. On top of his dresser there was a watch, a tray with spare change, a deodorant stick and a CD player. The floor was covered in loose leaf paper and random pieces of clothing. A sock here, a button down shirt there. Feeling her composure break, she crawled off the bed and took his shirt before pulling it over her camisole. She shuddered as it hit her skin and she curled into a ball on the bed, hoping desperately that the pain would filter away and that she could feel whole again.

She had once read a novel where the female protagonist was dealing with a broken heart and had described herself as feeling like swiss cheese. Filled with holes and gaps that could never be filled again. As stupid as the book had turned out to be, and as silly as the female protagonist was...there was no better description for how Gabriella was feeling at the moment.

She felt her body begin to shake as tears filled her eyes and she clutched the comforter with her fingers. She felt a gaping hole through her, felt empty and so, so numb. She had never felt anything like this since her father had died, but this, this was entirely different kind of pain. It was fresh and while her father's death had crumbled her heart, shattered it; Eddie's had ripped it right out of her.

Suddenly everything was hitting her all at once. She was plagued with memories. Dancing with Eddie at the wedding, picking out a Christmas tree with him. Their first date, the first and last times they had made love, the first time he told her I love you. Her eyes snapping open, she saw her own face staring back at her from the wall and she swung her legs over the bed, breathing heavily.

She had to get out of there.

Hastily exiting the room, she shut the door loudly behind her. She raced to the bathroom across the hall and yanked open the door. Locking it quickly behind her, she clutched the rim of the toilet before retching into it. She felt the hot tears run along her face and when she felt her stomach empty entirely, she leaned against the edge of the bathtub and took shallow breaths, catching the tears before they could hit the ground. Pulling herself up, she went over to the sink and pressed her palms into the surface, trying to still her beating heart. How could she stay here?

This was going to be a lot harder than she had expected. But things always go worse before they got better and maybe with that notion, she could get through her. Running the tap, she gathered cool water and rinsed it over her face. She took a tube of toothpaste and scrubbed a little bit over her teeth as her own tooth brush was still locked in the confines of her suitcase. Feeling considerably calmer, she stepped back out into the hallway.

Now what? She could watch television, she supposed. Or she could give herself a better, proper tour of the house. Either way, she could not go back into that room. Weighing her options, a tour seemed like the better one out of the two. Glancing about the hallway, she knew the room beside hers was Jason's and the one across from hers was Troy. She knew that on the floor downstairs was the kitchen, living room, Chad and Jeff's rooms and another bathroom. There was one door whose contents remained a mystery to her.

Curiosity was getting the better of her, and hell, she was home alone. Walking over to the door, she pulled it open slowly and peered inside. She had not expected to find it occupied. She had thought all the males were out for the day.

Naturally she hadn't taken one into account.

Troy was in the room with a woman, but despite what Gabriella would have assumed had she been told that information, it was anything but what the words insinuated. The woman, tall with curves in all the right places and long chocolate brown hair was sitting in an armchair, her legs flung over the side. Her lips were painted a shocking red and in her hand she held a multi-coloured fan. Coyly, she peaked over the lace edges of it, her eyes dancing as she watched Troy.

He was kneeling in front of her, a camera poised in his hands. He wore jeans, a grey v-neck t-shirt and a grey beanie that was several shades lighter. He snapped pictures rapidly; adjusting on his knees as he did so, getting different angles. Gabriella froze. She had stumbled upon Troy's studio.

She had known he had one; Edward had mentioned it time and time again in an attempt to get her to warm up to him. Gabriella enjoyed art plenty, and Eddie, being Eddie, had assumed that she would maybe be able to bond with Troy. Gabriella simply didn't care though, she didn't like Troy so there was no way she was going to like this work. It was like watching a film with an actress or actor you weren't particularly fond of; you can't focus cause all you can remember is how much you dislike them.

Just as she was trying to edge the door closed, however, the woman's eyes fell on her and she lowered her fan, uncomfortable with the intrusion. Seeing her body shift, Troy turned to look over his shoulder and stiffened when he saw Gabriella.

"Um, hi?" the brunette woman said quietly, awkwardly running over her hair. She glanced over at Troy. "Did um, you have another girl lined up for now? We have gone over time?"

Gabriella shook her head, "Um, no, I'm not..." she looked over at Troy who was fiddling with a dial on his camera and she fingered the hem of Edward's shirt. "I'm not...um, don't let me interrupt you."

The woman in the chair flushed. "Oh, I'm sorry, I just assumed," she laughed nervously. "There's not a lot of women in this house often."

Gabriella smiled slightly and turned. "I'll let you get back to work." She turned to look at Troy, who had a hand pressed to his forehead.

"Forget it," he sighed loudly, standing slowly. His knee made a sharp cracking noise that filled the awkward silence that had fallen over the three. "My stride's broken now. Angie, you can go."

The brunette frowned as Troy set his camera down and made his way over to her. "Troy, are you sure? I don't have anything better to do this afternoon anyways."

Troy smiled at her as she swung her legs over the armchair and took the fan from her. "Yeah, don't sweat it. You've been here for nearly three hours anyways. I've gotten hundreds of shots." She rose and he gave a hug and a peck on the cheek. "Tell Rob I say hi."

She grinned brightly and grabbed her purse off the floor. "Will do. See you, Troy," she came to the door, where Gabriella was still standing. "Nice to um, meet you...um..."

"Gabriella," she filled in, smiling tightly. Angie smiled back weakly before stepping past her to leave. Once Gabriella heard the front door snap shut, she leaned against the doorframe and watched as Troy plugged his camera into the computer set up on the desk on the other side of the room.

"Sorry," she began softly. "I was just wandering and I was just wondering what this room was," she answered honestly. Troy glanced up at her before taking a seat at his desk chair. "Chad didn't mention it when he gave the tour earlier."

She glanced around the room. The walls were painted a deep charcoal and several lights were set up on either side along with a white drop screen. There was a small wooden box that was open, revealing several props. Fans, masks, costume jewelry and the like. In the far right corner of the room, across from the area where Angie had been posing was Troy's desk, where he was seated now. A silver iMac computer sat on top of the desk, along with an printer, two other cameras and a series of lenses. Black and white photos lined the walls, city scapes, flowers and landscapes; work she all assumed to be his.

Shaking his hair out of his eyes, Troy hit a few keys before replying. "It's not your house, Montez. You shouldn't go snooping around."

Gabriella narrowed her eyes, feeling the familiar sense of adrenaline past through her veins at his words. "Sorry I took away your opportunity to get her to pose nude," she snapped and he narrowed his own eyes, shaking his head.

"You're such a bitch, Montez," he said quickly, clicking his mouse. His eyes flew over her appearance and he grimaced. "What are you wearing?" He flicked the strands of hair poking out from underneath his beanie out of his eyes.

Gabriella flushed. "Oh, I just...you know, found it in Edward's room," she pulled the ends of the sleeves over her wrists and fingers, hiding her fists from him.

He didn't say anything for a moment, his eyes fixed on her trembling hands. "That's no way to heal," he said after several beats of silence. He smirked bitterly. "Are you going to rent a wood chipper and toss the rest of his stuff in there, too? Because this is our house and I think we have a say in it this time."

She scoffed, irritated. "Oh, what do you know?" she said angrily. "You didn't love him like I did. You couldn't possibly understand."

He chuckled darkly before turning in his desk chair. "Don't act so high and mighty, Montez," he said lowly. "You're not the only one whose dealt with a broken heart. So stop running your mouth before it gets you in trouble."

Glaring and propelled by an unknown force, Gabriella stepped into the room. She wanted to throttle him. How dare he insinuate that her feelings were not unique? Maybe hundreds, thousands upon millions had gone through similar things, but that didn't make her pain any less real. Stepping over to him, unsure why she felt the physical need to touch him, sock him in the jaw or dig her nails into his bicep, she restrained herself and glanced at his screen. On display where hundreds of images of Angie, all of them portraits. She raised her eyebrows, impressed, before Troy minimized the screen.

"First you open the door without knocking," he began, removing his beanie and ruffling his hair, "Then you read over my shoulder. Haven't you ever heard of privacy? Personal space?"

Gabriella didn't say anything, instead leaning over him and clicking the mouse. A particularly stunning image appeared on the screen and she felt her chest tighten. It was beautiful.

Suddenly, Troy snatched the mouse from underneath her palm. His fingers brushed hers and she felt a jolt run through her. She pulled back as if burned. She never wanted him to touch her. Ever.

Troy recoiled before sighing. "Why," he began tiredly, "Are you in here? Especially since I was the one who promised to keep my distance."

She wasn't expecting him to question her actions and she found herself faltering under his words. "I told you," she said cooly, "I was just wandering around the house."

"Fair enough," he responded, turning back to his work. "Since your lack of respect for personal property caused me to lose at least another hour of work, it'd be great if you could leave. I have editing to do and I don't need any distractions.

Gabriella laughed sardonically. "Like I was planning to stick around, Bolton." When he didn't respond, she began to walk towards the door. As her hand closed over the doorknob, she turned back and saw Troy hunched by his computer screen, scanning photo after photo and she stilled.

He looked so tired, the dark circles under his eyes prominent and his face pale. She knew that face, she knew that exhaustion. She saw it in the mirror everyday. For the second time in the three years she had known him, she found herself wishing things weren't the way they were between them.

Then he cast his eyes on her and furrowed his brows, raising a hand as if demanding to know why she was still there and the moment was gone.

---

Later that night, Gabriella had opted out of helping to prepare dinner. Troy was downstairs in the kitchen, drinking a beer and frying meat, and after their early encounter, she thought it best to try and keep her distance as well. Not only that, she felt she had to deal with being in Edward's room sooner or later.

So she had taken to wandering around the room, looking through his old books and belongings. She put on one of his old mix CDs and smiled as The Beatles filled the room. She had never been a huge fan, but Edward had, and she enjoyed remembering the things he loved.

The whole room was like a shrine to him and his younger years. She found old beer bottles stashed in a cupboard in his bureau and dozens upon dozens of old school assignments from college. He never wanted to part with them, saying that you never would know when you would need them again.

She stepped over to his closet and pulled open the doors, her eyes running over it's contents. She was still dressed in his old shirt and her pair of skinny jeans from earlier than day, not changing out of it despite Troy's words. In the closet hung dozens of button shirts, all similar to the one she wearing and she smiled. She would wear a different one to bed each night.

The top shelf of the closet was cluttered with objects. Books, shoeboxes, he box for his laptop and his beloved baseball glove. Eddie had loved baseball. She saw a single photograph sticking out and she pulled it from the top and glanced at it. Her heart stopped.

The photo was of she and Edward a year ago at Chad's birthday. He had his arm around her and she had her head resting on his shoulder. They looked happy.

She smiled, holding the photo in her hands, her fingers running over their faces. They had been so happy, so close. Her chest felt tight and her body began to tremble as she once again was hit with the full impact of his death. He had given her happiness, had held her heart and with him gone, it was impossible to get either back.

She took the photograph and tucked it in her back pocket, before stepping on her tiptoes and attempting to grab the baseball glove that was wedged between two shoeboxes and a clutter of books. It didn't seem to want to budge and she gave an extra hard tug. One that was too hard, sending the books and boxes flying to the ground.

She groaned as a shoe fell out, smacking her on the nose. Running the wound, she looked down at the mess that now surrounded her feet. Crouching, she sighed as she began stacking the books, putting the shoes back in her box and scooping up the photographs.

Wait. Photographs?

She stilled her movements and lifted one of them from the ground, turning it over slowly. Smiling back at her was a blonde woman; her grin wide and her brown eyes bright. Gabriella frowned. She had never seen this woman in her life; what was Edward doing with a photo of her? She flicked over another photo only to find the same woman, lying on the beach in a hot pink bikini, puckering her lips in a goofy kiss to whomever was taking the shot. Gabriella's frown deepened.

Something wasn't right. Her immediate thoughts went to this conclusion, but she found herself making up excuses as she continued to flip over photograph after photograph. Each and everyone had the blonde woman perched in some corner of it. Troy was a photographer; maybe these were his photos. But why would they be in Edward's room? Maybe they were Jeff's or Jason's; they could have significant others, too. But as she flipped over one more she felt her heart stop.

The picture was of the woman, her arm extended out, obviously holding the camera, and next to her, his lips pressed to her cheek...was Edward.

Heart pounding, she overturned every single photograph on the floor, dumping out the contents of the box. Dozens upon dozens of photos poured out, each one depicting the woman and quite a few of them showing Edward. Edward with his arms around her, Edward kissing her, Edward laughing with her. There were some single shots too; of him lounging in an unknown apartment, of him sitting on the beach.

Shaking, her eyes filling with tears, she discovered a stack of paper on top of the sea of images. A red elastic band was stretched around it and she snapped it off, ripping open the papers to read what words were written on the page.

In her hands she held e-mails that had been printed off, postcards and letters. They were written in loopy penmanship and smelled of floral perfume.

Gabriella's head was reeling. What was this shit? Why were there all these photos of Edward with this woman? Why were there all these photographs? Breathing quickly, she brought a hand to her mouth and pressed her fingertips against her jaw, willing away the tears.

He had kept all of these here, a place where she never ventured because of Troy. He knew there was so little chance of her seeing them. They had been in the second shoebox, one on top with actual shoes in it. It would seem so unsuspecting to someone who was just rummaging through.

Edward hadn't been faithful to her.

All signs where pointing to this conclusion, all of them. There was a chance, however, that she was a woman from his past, but looking at the photographs and his face, the one she knew by heart, she knew that was an impossibility. They were recent, maybe even very recent.

How could he do this to her? How could he keep it a secret? Suddenly feeling angry, she stumbled to her feet and snatched one of the photographs off of the floor and staggered over to the door. She made her way down to the hallway, over to the kitchen where loud music was playing and laughter could be heard from the four males.

"You're something beautiful, a contradiction," Chad was singing obnoxiously as his friends laughed while they prepared. They seemed like they were high spirits, laughing and sipping their Heinekens. Chad's eyes brightened upon seeing Gabriella, pleased that she had come out of her room. "You will be the death of meeee."

When Gabriella didn't crack a smile at his antics, at his off-key pitch, Chad stopped moving. He frowned slightly. "You okay, Gabi?" he asked slowly.

The mood in the kitchen was suddenly somber. Jeff, who was playing air guitar suddenly stopped, his eyes fixed on the sole female in the house. Jason stopped chopping carrots and Troy, who had been laughing at something as he leaned against the counter frowned before bringing his beer to his mouth, taking a long sip.

Slowly, Gabriella raised her hand, the picture of the blonde woman grasped within her fingers. She showed it to the boys, waiting for some reaction.

They stared back at her.

"Are we supposed to know who that is, Gabi?" Jeff asked, hands nervously smoothing down his bright graphic tee. "Is that a friend of yours? Cause she's hot."

Gabriella's mouth was dry while she surveyed the men. "Who is she?"

Chad blinked. "I don't know. Who?"

"Why don't you tell me?" she all but hissed and the men flinched. Jason set his knife against the cutting board and raised his hands defensively.

"Gabi, we don't know," he said, a nervous smile on his face. "Stop playing games." He paused when he said that her hands were trembling. "Are you okay?"

"I found these in Edward's room," she said, her voice a harsh whisper. "There are dozens upon dozens of them. In some, he's with her. There's letters too. Who is she and what did she mean to Edward?"

Jason dropped his hands at the same time Chad's beer slipped from his grasp, shattering on the floor.

"I...I don't know," Jeff stuttered. "I, um, do any of you guys...ah."

Jason shrugged helplessly. "I've never seen her in my life. Gabi, I don't think...Edward wouldn't...are you sure you found them in his room?"

"Of course I did!" Gabriella snapped. "You think I'm making this up? Who is she? Did Edward...was he...?"

Chad seemed frozen to the spot, not even aware that he had dropped his drink. "Are you implying what I think you are, Gabi?" he asked, but before Gabriella could answer, she was cut off by a low voice that had not yet spoken.

"She is and she's correct." Four pairs of eyes fell on Troy, who was turning his beer bottle in his hands which were now shaking slightly. Setting his bottle on the counter he took a deep breath before running his fingers through his hair.

The song on the CD switched, a soft, low melancholy tune filling the room. Gabriella's eyes locked with Troy's and he held her gaze for a moment, trying desperately to communicate that she wasn't supposed to know this for her own benefit. Suddenly exhausted, he cast a hand over his face and rubbed his eyes.

Gabriella opened her mouth to speak, feeling her heart shatter. "W-what?"

Troy sighed heavily. "Edward wasn't faithful to you. Her name's Sharpay. He met her on the trip we made to LA a year and a half ago."

Her heart breaking, Gabriella's fingertips went numb and the photo fluttered to the ground, floating on the surface of puddle of beer that was pooling across the floor, soaking her feet.

"_And grace the game with a blindfold on, the cheaters came out to play_," whispered the song as the liquid ran over the photo and distorted the image. Gabriella bit her lip, staring at Troy, waiting for him to continue.

Even though she knew it was going to kill her.

---

Kay, so it's important to note that I am not a fan of unnecessary drama. In fact, I hate it. I like slow pacing and necessary evils. That being said, the next couple of chapters are going to be drama filled, but it has to be done, even though it is early in the game. I have about a bazillion things planned for this baby and this is one of them. There is a method to my madness, I promise.

The response to this has been so amazing! You guys are so spectacular and wonderful! Thanks to all of you who dropped a line at my LJ! It was super sweet! Track number two is up underneath the banner now, so go steal it! I wont' tell. :)

I've also had several inquires to WHAT THE HELL IS UP WITH YOUR TITLE? Well, the definition is right underneath it every chapter and I think it's the loveliest thing ever. Fun fact: I have no clue how to pronounce it. Also, in public, I refer to it as 'Mamihlalalala' or some variation. You should do the same.

OH AND NO, EDWARD IS IN NO WAY CONNECTED TO TWILIGHT. When I selected that name I was like, OH HELL NAH, PEOPLE ARE GONNA THINK IT'S BECAUSE OF TWILIGHT. It's not. I am no longer a fan even though I have written words for the fandom in the past. I considered changing his name but decided no, his name is Edward and Twilight shouldn't ruin that for me.


	3. The Liar

---

**Mamihlapinatapei**

Yaghan, noun: a look shared between two people with each wishing the other will initiate something that which both desire, but neither wants to start.

---

"What are you talking about, Troy?" Chad said slowly, breaking the silence. Four pairs of eyes were fixed on the man standing against the counter, his blue eyes shining and his face pale. "Edward cheated on Gabriella?"

Troy nodded, bringing a hand to his temple. "Don't use that word. It sounds cheap."

Jason guffawed. 'That's cause it is cheap. What he did was cheap. What the flying fuck, Troy? How do you know all about this and none of the rest of us do?"

Dragging his hand down his face, Troy sighed. "What he did, Jason, was a lot more than just cheat. He was unfaithful." He glanced at Gabriella, trying to gauge her reaction. This was going to crush her and how he chose his words would determine a lot of things. He didn't want to break her, oh god...that was the last thing he wanted. There were so many nitty, gritty details of this tale that he would never tell her, just because it would be one more wound that she would have to heal.

Pressing his fingers to his lips, he took a deep breath; ready to unravel the quilt It's a long story. Um, Gabriella...you might want to sit down for this."

"Don't shrink me, Bolton," she said feebly, her eyes glassy and lip trembling. "Just tell me what you know."

Her heart was beating so wildly in her chest she was certain it might fly out of her chest. Everything was happening so fast. One minute she was desperately in love with a man, planning her wedding, the next he was dead. Seconds passed and she tried to heal and how she was discovering that he had been unfaithful to her.

She felt like she was going to vomit all over the floor. She felt like her legs were going to give out from underneath her. She looked up at Troy and wanted him to laugh and say it had all been a joke and that he was just getting back at her. Looking up at his hunched posture and the anxious way he was running his hands through his hair, she realized that any chance of that happening was slim to none.

Could she handle this? Did she want to hear this? She didn't need to know the details, did she? No, she knew he was unfaithful and she could take this information and try to heal with it. She didn't need to know.

As she watched Troy wring his hands together, though, she knew this wasn't the case. The one person she had hated for so many years was suddenly her source of information. He suddenly held all the answered. She cringed and urged him to meet her gaze.

"Tell me, Troy."

At her plea, Troy let out a deep breath and looked at the floor. "A year and a half ago, Ed and I went to L.A. He had some big accounts to settle and I figured I'd come along for the ride. It was all expenses paid through his company and I thought it was a chance for free booze, cheap shows and I could get in some shots that I could use for freelance work in the future."

Gabriella nodded, remembering the trip Edward had taken so long ago. He had been gone two weeks and she was irked that he had decided to go with Troy, but at the time, had decided to pick her battles.

"We got there and for the first few days, that's just what it was. Edward worked during the day while I wandered the town and took photos. At night we'd hit the nightlife where I'd hook up with some chick and he'd be the designated driver. It was a simple routine, and even though Ed was with you and didn't flirt with women like I did, we had a good time."

He paused then, letting the start of his tale sink in. Jason was visibly shaken up and Chad stood behind Gabriella, as if worried she might crumple at any moment. Jeff was seated at the kitchen table, his head in his hands.

Edward's betrayal had all thrown them for a loop and Troy felt like vomiting at the admission that he had known all along. Pacing around the kitchen, he continued.

"Then one night, Ed had to be up pretty early for an appointment, so he suggested that we just go get dinner at this casual restaurant up in Toluca Lake," Troy explained, "All the celebrities dined there and he was determined to get autographs. So we drove up there and found that the food was essentially crap and the only celebrity that dined there frequently was Miley Cyrus. So, whatever, we were talking about sports over greasy burgers and then _she _walked in."

"You said her name was Sharpay?" Gabriella said slowly, testing out the name. "That's who came into the diner, right?"

Troy nodded, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "Yeah. Sharpay. She was blonde and leggy and had no one to sit with. I knew it the moment Edward set his eyes on her that he was interested. I suggested we leave. He declined and ordered another round of fries. She requested a table for one and sat down. Edward was shocked. "She's alone," he had said. I didn't get why he cared; he was in a relationship and I didn't like blondes, so what interest did she hold for us?"

Troy closed his eyes and went back to that night that started it all.

"_Seriously, man, can't we get out of here?" Troy asked urgently. The food here could be described in two words: hangover food, and despite Edward's earlier instance that celebrities hung out here often, the closest they had come to any was their server informing them that they were sitting at the table often occupied by Hollywood's hottest young couple. Troy didn't even care; the last thing he felt like doing was stalking celebrities. He kind of figured they cherished their privacy. He wasn't a paparazzi for a reason and even refused to cover red-carpet events. _

"_I can't believe she's sitting alone," Edward said, picking up a fry and biting into it. "Can you believe she's sitting alone?"_

_Troy rolled his eyes. "Um, yeah, I can. Not everyone is tied down to someone." He glared at his friend. "Though I'm pretty sure you are. Remember, Gabriella? Petite with dark hair and really sexy legs?"_

_Edward broke out of his reverie suddenly, his head snapping to attention. "What?"_

_Troy waved his hand, flushing slightly. "Nevermind. The point is, stop staring at her. She's going to get the wrong impression."_

_Edward didn't seem to be listening, however, and this irked Troy further. His friend's behavior was starting to get on his last nerve and quite frankly, it was disgusting. He had a girlfriend, for Christ sake! Albeit, one who hated his guts and was a bitch at the best of times, but still, he had a girlfriend and this was rude and unfair and wrong._

"_Let's go, Ed," he prodded, but his friend smiled slowly. Troy frowned. "Ed, I'm tired."_

"_I'm going to invite her to sit with us."_

Troy opened his eyes, feeling his fingertips grow numb. "He seemed adamant that we invite her to come sit with us. And after some smiling and casual banter, she did. She ordered a burger; the same we ate and Edward grinned at her. 'A girl who can eat!' he declared, like she had earned a million brownie points because of it. We spent another hour with her at the diner, the two of them mostly talking while I ate fries I wasn't hungry for, just for something to do. We discussed our careers; she was a dance instructor across town. She and Edward exchanged numbers and I tried not to think too much of it."

"It was later that night when I realized that no where in our conversation did he mention you," Troy paused, swallowing and looking up at Gabriella. She shivered at his gaze and the implication of his words.

"Then what?"

"Then?" Troy broke away from her eyes. "Then nothing. I didn't hear or see anything about Sharpay for the next three days. Ed suddenly wasn't interested in going out at night, so I went by myself, taking photos at clubs and of the nightlife. I figured he was tired; he was here on business, after all.

One night, I had hit all the local hot spots; Le Deux, Spider Room, etcetera when I decided that expensive beer and cheap women were boring me, so I went back to the hotel earlier than I had anticipated. When I came back to our room, I found Ed in bed with Sharpay."

Gabriella gasped then, a hand flying to her mouth and she bit down on her thumb hard, holding back her sobs. Chad laid an arm around her shoulders, squeezing tightly.

"Maybe you should stop, Troy," he said carefully. "This is too much to handle."

"No!" Gabriella shouted. "No. Keep going. I want to know everything. I _need_ to know everything."

Chad looked down at her in pity. "But, Gabi..."

"No!" she shook her head violently. "I've been kept in the dark for too long. Tell me everything, Troy."

The sound of his name cracking as it fell from her lips made him shiver and he took a deep breath before continuing. "I was drunk, so naturally, I freaked out. How could he do that to you? To himself? He told me to shut up and that we should talk when I was sober and that'd I wake Sharpay. I was pissed off, I thought I knew him, thought him to be smart and upstanding and here he was a liar and a cheat."

"_Troy, man, calm down," Edward said, ushering his angered friend into the en-suite bathroom. "You need to calm down."_

"_Fuck you!" Troy yelled, his cheeks flushed and his head spinning. He felt sick. How could Edward do this to someone he supposedly loved? How could he do it to Gabriella?_

"_Man, calm the fuck down," Edward hissed through clenched teeth. "You're being irrational."_

"_No, you're being irrational. You asshole!" Troy shoved Edward up against the door. "You have a girl at home, a great girl and you're here in L.A. fucking some random whore!"_

_Edward set his jaw. "Don't call her that."_

_Troy laughed. "Are you serious, Ed? Are we actually having this conversation? How could you do this? Did you really think that you wouldn't get caught? I can't fucking believe you!"_

"_You don't understand, Troy," Edward said, trying to make him see. "You don't know how...Sharpay is...she's amazing."_

"_Oh, yeah?" Troy looked him in the eye. "Last I checked, so was your girlfriend."_

"_She is, too!" Edward rubbed the back of his neck. "But Gabriella...she's...she's not Sharpay."_

_With that, Troy bit his lip, drew back his fist and smashed it into Edward's cheekbone. His friend stumbled back, shocked at Troy's actions. It had been so many years since they had sparred physically. Troy felt a sense of relief the moment he made contact with Edward's stupid fucking face. Edward stared up at him._

"_Troy, what the fuck?" he yelped, holding his face in pain. Troy shook out his fist, letting the pain and cramping fall from his fingertips._

"_You're right, Edward," Troy said harshly. "Gabriella isn't Sharpay. She's not a two dollar whore."_

Troy remembered the way his fist had felt connecting with Edward's face. It had felt foreign, uncomfortable, but right. In that moment, he had deserved it. "I punched him in the face and then I left. The next morning, I woke up slumped in the hallway outside the hotel room when Sharpay opened the door, smiling and clacking down the hall in her heels. I had half-convinced myself that it had all been a dream. Seeing her there, I knew it hadn't been."

"When I saw the bruise on his cheek, I felt guilty. We were friends and we had fought in the past, but not like this," Troy began to pace back and forth as he continued his story. He licked his lips again. "Well, not up to this point, anyways." With those words, Gabriella was instantly reminded of the month long fight they had had shortly after their return from L.A and briefly wondered if they were connected.

"So I made a deal with him," he explained, running a palm over his face. "I told him that he had to tell you as soon as we got back, or that I would. He promised me he would, Gabriella, he _promised_ and you know despite everything, Edward never went back on his word." He laughed bitterly. "I suppose, though, after everything that happened, I shouldn't have believed him."

He looked up and met her gaze again and she felt something inside of her shift. "He told me that he had told you and that you two were working it out privately. He told me and I believed him and I was still so angry that he had done something so unforgivable and was just getting away with it. But I let it go and for the last year, I had thought you two were able to move past it and I tried to learn to do the same." He ran a hand through his hair again. "How was I supposed to know he was lying? You and I never spoke and even if we did, that's not something you oh so casually bring up. 'Oh, how are things with your boyfriend? Sorry he cheated, but I punched him in the face for you."

"Then, nine months ago," Troy picked up his abandoned beer bottle off the counter and traced the mouth of it. "Nine months ago, his cell phone rang. The area-code wasn't from here, so I figured it was for work. I answered it for him. It was Sharpay."

He gave a disgusted chuckle, bringing the drink to his lips before swigging down nearly half. "Turns out, he was still seeing her. Turns out, he had lied to me and was still lying to you and he had never told you. When I confronted him about it, he told me he would break things off with you," Gabriella gave a gasp of pain and Troy winced. "He told me he knew it was unfair and wrong to you and that he was going to let you go. But he didn't. Instead, he proposed."

_Troy stood in the kitchen of his the house, eating Oreo cookies out of the bag and chasing them with milk. Rubbing his hand over his face, he sighed. It had been a long day._

_Edward had proposed to Gabriella at a barbeque thrown by Taylor Mckessie, in front of all their friends and Troy had left the festivities right after that. Most assumed it was because he was completely upset with the thought that his best friend was actually making the ultimate commitment to a girl Troy hated. That wasn't entirely the case. Ever since the phone had rang three weeks ago, Troy had been waiting for the moment that the news that Edward had broken up with Gabriella dropped. _

_Instead he was there to witness their proposal. Licking the filling off of an Oreo, he tossed it in his mouth, hoping the sweet taste would get rid of the bitter one that had lingered there since Edward got down on one knee._

_Hearing footsteps behind him, he glanced over his shoulder and stiffened when he saw who it was. He scoffed and shoved another cookie in his mouth._

"_What are you doing here?" he said in between bites. "Shouldn't you be at home? Celebrating or some shit?"_

_Edward shrugged, patting the top of his perfectly coiffed black hair. "I just had some stuff I wanted to grab from my room." He looked at Troy before clearing his throat. "Not happy to see me?"_

_Troy turned his back to Edward, grabbing his glass of milk and downing it. Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he dug his palms into the counter top and leant his weight against it. "You're a son of a bitch, you know that?" Troy asked quietly and Edward didn't respond._

"_I know," he admitted, swinging his car keys around his finger. "Please try and understand why I did it Troy."_

"_Did what, exactly?" Troy turned to face him now. "Cheated on Gabriella? Lied to me about telling her? Said you were going to break up with her and then deciding to propose to her instead? Sorry, Ed, I don't think you can explain any of that."_

_Edward looked at him pleadingly. "I can't hurt her, Troy. I can't. I can't hurt either of them."_

"_Do you love her?" Troy asked suddenly and Edward's gaze flickered to the ground. When he didn't respond, Troy laughed bitterly and folded up the bag of Oreos, getting ready to leave the room._

_As his foot was on the first step of the staircase, Edward called out to him._

"_Why do you care, Troy?" The man said, his voice low and frustrated. "Why won't you let me deal with my own faults?"_

_Troy gripped the banister, trying to restrain himself. "Because you dragged me into this time and time again, Ed. You've lied, time and time again. You can't face your own faults and you don't seem to understand that by fucking proposing to that woman, you're hurting her more than you ever would if you were honest with her."_

"_You didn't answer my question," Edward said, folding his arms. "Why the fuck do you care what I do with my life? What I do with Gabriella? You two can't even be in the same room together."_

_Troy looked him straight in the eye then and he saw Edward flinch. "You know perfectly well why, Edward." He turned and began to walk up the stairs. "Now leave before I say something that causes us not to talk for a month again."_

"_Will you be at the wedding?" Edward called out to him and Troy winced. _

"_Yes," he responded. "But not for you."_

And suddenly, the pieces of the puzzle all came together and Gabriella realized why everything made sense. Why Edward had spent so much time in Los Angeles the last year. She had actually believed that it was for business! How could she have been so naive?! She had actually been stupid enough to think that he loved her and that he had wanted to be a part of the planning process of their nuptials, but he just _couldn't_.

It had all been a lie.

"But...but..." Gabriella bit down on her thumb again. "If he wanted to break things off with me, why did he propose?"

Troy shrugged, taking another gulp of his beer. "I don't know."

"I can't believe this," Jason said suddenly, taking a seat on the ground. "I can't believe he was like that. I can't believe I thought I knew him." He bit his lip, trying to restrain the tears that were threatening to spill. "Fuck him."

Chad looked at Jason, shocked. "Jase, don't say that, he's gone, we all make mistakes."

"No, he's right," Jeff added, "Fuck him. If he lied about something this important, this crucial all these years...who knows what else he lied about?"

Gabriella pressed her hands to her face. "I can't believe this. I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe he did this."

"He loved you, Gabriella," Chad said desperately. He didn't want this. He didn't want his friend's memory to be so tarnished, so ruined. Though his mind was reeling over the secrets of Edward's that were suddenly fact, he couldn't help but want to instill something into Gabriella that proved that Edward had, at some point, in some way, loved her.

"I can't...I can't believe this," Gabriella said, trembling. "Why did he do this?"

"I don't know why he did," Troy spoke softly, "I told you everything I knew. I don't know why he proposed and I don't know why he stayed with her."

When he was finished speaking, he looked up at Gabriella. Her face was unbearably pale and he wanted nothing more than to reach out and give her some colour. Tears pooled in her eyes and she was biting her bottom lip so hard it was turning white.

"Gabriella," he choked out, watching her as she walked over to him in three quick strides. "I am so, so sorry."

A resounding crack echoed through the room as Gabriella's hand made contact with Troy's cheek. His head jerked back and his bangs fell in his eyes, shielding them from his friends. He brought a hand up to touch the stinging skin and he looked up at her.

"Gabriella, I—" She cut him off, slapping him on the other cheek before Chad grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her back.

"Gabriella, stop!" Chad shouted, but the woman angrily writhed in his hold.

"How could you?!" she screamed, "How dare you keep this from me for a year and a half! A whole fucking year, Bolton! You knew he was unfaithful and you never bothered to tell me!"

Dropping the hand from his face, he searched hers, desperate to get her to understand. "I thought he had told you. For almost two years, I thought you knew and that you two had worked it out. When I found out that he hadn't, I didn't know how to tell you," he swallowed. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"Didn't want to hurt me?" she screeched, tears falling down her face rapidly. "I was going to marry him, Bolton! He was my everything! I loved him and he wasn't faithful and you thought you'd just stand by and let me marry someone when he had a mistress, a sidepiece? How could you?"

"It wasn't my place!" Troy barked suddenly. "I was his friend, Gabriella, one of his best. I kept his secrets because that was what I was supposed to do!" He ran a hand through his hair, gripping the strands. "You however, were not! My loyalty, my friendship went to him by default, even if I knew what he was doing was wrong! What did I owe you? You wouldn't even look at me half of the time!"

Her eyes grew wide. "Oh, so that's it then? You wanted me hurt. After all the mean words I flung at you, you thought it best to give me a taste of my own medicine?"

Troy's eyes snapped to her gaze and he felt his stomach churn. "No, Gabriella, that wasn't it at all!" He said desperately. "I didn't want to hurt you! I knew how much you loved Edward. You were so, so happy to be getting married to him and I had hoped that that would...that it would make things alright with you!" He looked down at the ground, his hands clenched into fists. "I didn't want to hurt you."

Gabriella laughed, swiping her hands across her face. "Oh, that's rich, Bolton! You didn't want to hurt me? And you thought keeping it from me was the way to go?"

Troy pressed his hand over his eyes, trying desperately to get the room to stop spinning. "Gabriella, it was nothing like that! Put yourself in my position! I'm not the one you're mad at and you know it!"

She stared at him then, Chad's hands still gripping her upper arms and her lower lip trembled. Troy felt his heart break at her expression and she hung her head as her knees collapsed from underneath her. Chad staggered as her weight fell to the floor and she began to cry, her body racking with sobs.

Troy swallowed the lump in his throat as Chad scrambled to gather her up in his arms. Troy felt his own body suddenly become exhausted and he stumbled over to the counter and leaned upon it.

Chad had scooped Gabriella up into his arms and she clung to him, her small, frail frame shaking. Chad looked up from her tear stained face and looked at Troy.

"I'm going to take her to, um," he choked on the name, "I'm going to take her to his room, okay? She needs some rest."

Troy nodded mutely, looking at the broken girl before pressing his lips together. "I'm sorry." The apology this time wasn't just to Gabriella. It was to everyone; Troy was taking the blame, the burden and the guilt that came along with Edward's betrayal. He would take each jab, each glare for the man who had died and left him with a secret that had haunted him everyday for a year and a half.

Chad didn't answer before turning to walk up the stairs to Edward's old room. Troy leaned against the counter for a moment, pressing both of his hands on his face before rubbing his eyes tiredly. When he felt more composed, he looked at the two remaining men in the room. Jeff was crouched down by the now huge puddle of beer and was picking Sharpay's picture off of it. Jason was staring at Troy.

"I can't believe it," Jeff said quietly, shaking the droplets of beer off the photograph. "I can't believe all this time...he didn't...he didn't seem like the type."

Jason cleared his throat, his gaze still fixed on Troy. "I can't believe you knew this whole time."

Troy narrowed his eyes at him before walking over to the fridge and slinging open the door. He grabbed a beer of the shelf and slammed the lid on the counter's edge, snapping it off. He took a long drink before wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "Don't start, Jase."

Jason glared, running a hand through his hair. "No, I can't possibly fathom that you could allow this to go on for so long. You were going to let them get married."

Troy took another drink. "You would do the same thing. Don't deny it."

Jason straightened. "I don't know if I would, Troy," he said hotly.

"Jason," Jeff said, his tone warning, but Jason lifted his hand, stopping the man's words.

"No, Jeff," he said, cutting him off, "This has gone on forever between you and Gabriella. Are you really that petty that you'd allow her to be that hurt, to live in a marriage that messed up? I loved Edward, he was like a brother to me, but what he did wasn't right, it was fucked up." He furrowed his eyebrows. "Why do you _hate_ her so much?"

Troy downed the last of his beer before setting the bottle down on the counter softly. Opening the fridge door again, he pulled out the remaining four bottles and cradled them in his arms before beginning to exit the room. He paused when he got to the edge of the stairs, looking at his two friends.

"I have never once," he rearranged the bottles in his arms, "said that I hate Gabriella."

---

Gabriella woke several hours later, the hole no longer in just her chest, but in her entire body. The ache was unbearable, the pain excruciating. How could he do this to her? He said he loved her each and everyday he was with her. Was every word a lie? It had to have been; there was no way he could have kept up an affair for over a year and really have loved her.

"Oh, Edward," she sobbed, wrapping her arms around her self as she sat up in bed. She rocked back and forth, trying to find some semblance of comfort. "Why did you do this to me? How could you have proposed when you were sleeping with that...that woman? How could you?"

She remembered the look on Troy's face as he revealed all of her dead fiancee's secrets. The way he had constantly pressed his hands over his face, the way he ran his hands through his hair. The way he mumbled when he got to the details that were too harsh. The way he had apologized.

Feeling her eyes fill with fresh tears, she clutched at the sheets. She was angry at Troy, but he wasn't the one who had hurt her. Not intentionally at least. Why couldn't she get that look out of her head, the one that had cast over his features when she slapped him? She was haunted by the man she loved and the man she hated.

She stood up and felt fury inject in her veins. This was so fucking unfair. All she wanted was to heal, all she had wanted was someone to love her. Coming here was a mistake. If she hadn't come here, she would have never known about Edward's infidelity. She would have never known and she could have healed and maybe one day learned to live again. Learn to love again. Now the pain of losing Edward was so much worse. He was never hers to lose.

She smacked her hand across the shelf over Edward's bed, sending the baseballs flying. Fuck Edward, she thought. She swung her legs over the bed and overturned his mattress, ripping the sheets off and tearing the pillow till feathers filled the air. Fuck Troy and his stupid look. Fuck Chad and his inability to see Edward for what he was, for always trying to remain the peacemaker.

She staggered over the closet and wretched it open, taking the photographs of Sharpay and ripping them, tearing them into tiny pieces of confetti. Fuck this woman, fuck Sharpay for ruining her life. Fuck Los Angeles. She took each of the framed photos off the wall and smashing them to the ground, the shards of glass glittering as they pierced the wood and one hit her shin, drawing dark blood. She winced in pain, but kept going.

She yanked books off the top shelf in the closest and tore out the pages, broke their spines. Fuck everything. Fuck this house, fuck these people. She wanted out. She needed out.

She stopped suddenly, her fingers stinging and bloody from the paper-cuts that traced her fingers from her destruction. Where was she to go? She couldn't go back to her house; it was up for sale and even if it wasn't, the whole thing was built on lies and deception. Everything was just a memory of how stupid she had been. She couldn't stay here, she just couldn't.

Feeling her being break once and for all, she stumbled over to the middle of the room and collapsed, drawing her legs up to her chest and crying, her shoulder's shaking with her sobs. She yearned for sleep, but it did not come and she would not chase it.

Unbeknownst to Gabriella, outside her door stood one Troy Bolton; his forehead pressed to the wood and his palm resting beside it, the other hand wrapped around a bottle of beer. He heard her sobs from inside the room and shuddered before sliding down the surface of the door and turning around.

Sitting against the floor, he brought his knees up and rested his elbows on them. He took one last drink before setting the bottle on the ground beside him. Holding his head in his hands, he sat there, listening to her pain.

This was how he spent the night.

---

Well, I think this was the most dramatic thing I have ever written. It'll show down after this, I promise. Kay, I wrote this up immediately after finishing chapter two because I was under the impression that this week was going to be crazy insane because of yearbook class. Turns out I was wrong...so yeah, you guys get a treat instead. :)

A lot of you are curious about how much I am incorporating from 'Catch and Release'. Well, let's put it this way. I've seen the movie once about a year ago and not since then. So, yeah, not a lot. I don't even remember the character's names except for the one's mentioned in the trailer. A few of you said that you appreciated that Troy wasn't such a wimp as his parallel in the movie. I'm glad for that.

Guys, honestly, I am living, breathing, sleeping and eating this story. I write the chapters on my spare at school and do chapter plans during presentations in religion class. Today I even continued to do more chapter notes on my break at work.

Yeah, I don't have any shame anymore. :)

Expect the next chapter soon! Thanks for all the support!


	4. The Protector

---

**Mamihlapinatapei**

Yaghan, noun: a look shared between two people with each wishing the other will initiate something that which both desire, but neither wants to start.

---

The next morning, Gabriella woke up in a bed with a pounding headache and a throb in her fingertips. That should have alerted her right away that something wasn't right, but instead she rolled over in the bed and stared up at the ceiling, breathing in the scent around her. It was comforting, whatever it was; a combination of sandalwood, pine and Axe body-wash. She turned on her side and burrowed further into the sheets, bringing a hand up to her face. It was then that she paused.

_What?_

On her right index, ring and middle finger, as well as her the pad of her left thumb and pinky were bright blue and red Spiderman bandages. She stared at them curiously, gazing at the little red spiders and the masked comic-book hero. Shifting in the bed, she sat up.

_Where was she?_

Suddenly, it all came back to her. The house, Edward's betrayal, Troy's confessions. She felt dizzy and pressed a hand to her forehead, yelping when it hurt. That's right...the paper-cuts. She had trashed Edward's room. She took in her surroundings.

_She wasn't in a trashed bedroom. _

Her eyes felt puffy and sore as she blinked, trying to get her bearings. Instead of sitting in the middle of feathers, glass and paper, she was on a bed. In a strange room. She sat up further and looked out the window. It was overlooking the guys' backyard. Well, she was still in the house, at least.

She shouldn't feel this numb. She should be crying, shouldn't she? She shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself. She hated this feeling; this feeling that something was completely and utterly wrong and there was no chance in hell it could be repaired.

Edward had been unfaithful, point blank. He had spent the last year and a half flying back and forth between Albuquerque and Los Angeles, sleeping with Sharpay, the blonde dance instructor and then coming home to her. She scoffed, rubbing at her tried eyes and wishing things were different.

She wanted to cry. She wanted to yell and scream again, but she couldn't find her voice and the tears weren't coming. She was spent. She had gone the last three months feeling broken over a man she had thought she was going to spend the rest of her life with. Yet the whole time, he had a secret double life.

She wondered momentarily if she would have ever found out. If years down the road with two and a half kids and a white picket fence, she would discover a voicemail or a photograph. She wondered if they would have even made it to the alter.

Either way they hadn't and now she was left with this hole in her chest and this numb feeling that was settling in around her, debating whether or not it wanted to be permanent. She thought of her late fiancee, his grin and slicked back black hair, his deep brown eyes and she felt angry.

Fuck him.

Running a hand through her hair, she glanced around, trying to find some sign as to where she was. The walls were painted a dark charcoal colour and the sheets she was lying in were white, a stark contrast to the black duvet over her figure. A sleek black dresser and desk were on the other side of the room, a silver iBook perched on top with an iPod dock next to it. Over the dresser was a collage of black and white photos and in the corner by the closet was a stack of wires and electrical equipment. It was the camera and the grey beanie on the night-table beside her that tipped her off.

_Troy's room._

Swinging her legs over the bed, Gabriella noticed there was a band of gauze around her shin from where the glass had pierced her last night, fastened with more Spiderman bandages. She frowned again. Why was she in Troy's room and why did it appear that she had gone for a trip at the kindergarten doctor? Shuffling over to the other side of the room, she surveyed the belongings on top of the desk. There was a brown leather watch, the band and face large. There were stacks of paper with scribbled words across their lines and an empty Coke can. On on top of the dresser was a thick leather book. Picking it up in her hands, Gabriella realized it was a portfolio, the same one he had been flipping through when he came home yesterday.

Unable to resist, she inspected it carefully. Behind the leather and the zipper contained, no doubt, hundreds of images, things Troy felt was his best work. After seeing what he had did the other day with Angie, she was curious about his work, but didn't care enough to look. Even still...it couldn't hurt.

She heard movement from across the hall and dropped the book with a resounding thump, worried she might be caught. She flung her robe on and decided to leave the room once and for all. It wasn't safe here.

Stepping out into the hallway, Gabriella frowned as looked at the space by the door across from hers. Four empty beer bottles were grouped there. Carefully, she picked them up, noticing that the labels had been picked off and or nearly peeled off.

Funny, she thought to herself, before descending the steps downstairs. It was only nine AM so there was a fifty fifty chance that all the men of the household would be up, but there was also the chance that they weren't morning people. It was Saturday, after all.

As luck would have it, the kitchen wasn't abandoned when Gabriella entered it moments later. While it wasn't bustling with activity, Chad stood at the stove scrambling eggs. He looked over his shoulder upon seeing her and smiled gently, before frowning when he noticed the bottles in her arms.

"Um, hi," he said cautiously and she set them down one by one on the counter, nodding in response. "Where'd you find those?"

She shook her head before opening the fridge and pulling out a carton of milk. "Hallway."

Chad didn't say anything, wondering whether he should prod or let her dictate the pace of the conversation. He went back to scrambling his eggs, peering at her out of the corner of his eye every so often. She grabbed a box of generic wheat cereal and poured it in a bowl before taking a seat at the table. She moved her spoon around, but rarely brought it to her lips. At this, Chad cleared his throat.

"Um, did you want some eggs? There's plenty." He got another shake of the head as his answer and he sighed, before piling them onto a plate and taking a seat across from her.

She looked so small in the chair, so frail and fragile. He took a bite of his eggs, not nearly satisfied from the taste and sighed, knowing he was going to bring it up sooner rather than later.

"Gabriella," he began diplomatically, and briefly wondered when he had been the mature one in the house. When he had evolved from wearing t-shirts with silly slogans and caring around a basketball, making stupid jokes and puns; to attempting to keep everyone happy, walking on eggshells. When he had suddenly decided that he needed to keep everyone together? Despite what he wanted, he knew that it all had started when the girl sitting across from him entered their lives.

She looked up, blinking, but not saying anything. The way she was looking at him, however, told him that he had her attention.

"Are you going to continue to stay here?" he asked delicately, "Or did you want to leave?"

The silence that followed was nearly excruciating for him. He didn't want her to go; after last night, he felt that she needed to be protected, kept safe and between the four of them, even if one may or may not be a willing participant, he knew this was possible. He didn't want her going out on her own. He anxiously awaited her answer.

"I don't have a choice, do I?" she whispered, running a hand through her limp hair. "Where else am I to go? I can't face my mother just yet and I don't have the money to stay in a hotel. So yes, I guess I am here to stay." She shuddered inwardly at the thought, knowing she was going to have to stay in Edward's old bedroom and that sooner or later she was going to have to face the mess she had left in it. Her body was too tired to think about it.

Chad nodded, satisfied. "Alright," he said, taking another bite of his eggs and a sip of orange juice before choosing his next words carefully. "Troy says you can stay in his room."

Her head jerked up and she stared at him, unsure if she had heard him correctly. "What?"

Chad met her gaze. "Yeah. He offered it to you since...well, we all kind of figured that you wouldn't want to stay in...in _his_ room, and quite frankly the only place available is the couch. So after Troy put you in his bed last night, he forfeited his room and decided to take residence there until—"

"Wait, what?" Gabriella asked, shell shocked. "It was Troy who put me in his room?"

Chad furrowed his brow. "Well, yeah. How else do you think you got there?"

You put me there, Gabriella thought to herself, Jeff did, Jason. It hadn't occurred to her at all that Troy had been the one to make sure she was comfortable, wrapped up in his sheets. It had been stupid of her not to realize it though; it was his freaking room, after all.

She lifted a hand, staring at the bandages. "So these..." She gazed at them. How had he done it while she was sleeping?

"Troy." Chad swallowed. "I know you're mad at him, I'm upset, too. But he was pretty broken up last night. He feels awful, despite the past you two share. I don't think he slept last night; I found him on the couch this morning and that's when I found out you had been moved."

She scoffed. "Broken up about it?" she said quietly. "Doubt it."

"He drank all that last night, Gabi," Chad said softly, pointing to the empty bottles. "He's not a big drinker, despite the casual beer. I think that has to say something."

"So he moved me to his room so I would be more comfortable," she summarized, "Because he couldn't sleep because he felt awful about what happened?" She guffawed. "I don't believe you."

Chad pointed to the living room. "Go look if you're so certain I'm lying."

Raising an eyebrow, Gabriella paddled into the living room to investigate further. She felt her stomach twist at the sight her eyes fell upon. There was Troy sitting up on the couch, sheets crumpled at the end of it from the night before. He was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a white v-neck t-shirt, sipping on a mug of coffee. He had dark purple circles underneath his eyes and Gabriella suspected by the way he pressed a palm to his forehead that he was hungover. She bit at her nail and stepped closer to him.

He looked over his shoulder at the sudden movement and stiffened. She raised a hand meekly and he nodded at her.

"Hi," she said softly.

"Hi," he responded, blinking owlishly. He broke his gaze away from hers and looked at his reflection in his coffee mug. "How are you feeling?"

She shrugged, looking down at her hands. "I got out of bed, but that's not saying a lot." She looked back up at him. "Um, Chad said you put me in your room last night."

Troy looked up at her before looking away quickly. "Uh, yeah."

Twisting a strand of hair around her finger. "Um, thank you," she said quietly.

"No problem," he said, taking a sip of his coffee. He cleared his throat, looking down.

"And for this," she raised her hands, "I...thank you."

He shrugged again, nonchalantly. "It was the least I could do. Sorry about the cartoons; it was all we had."

"I don't mind," she said and she meant it. He took another long sip of his drink, before turning to look at her.

"I'm sure Chad's told you," he whispered, "but if you're staying, you're welcome to stay in my room. I don't mind the couch for a couple of weeks."

"You don't have to do that, I—"

"Gabriella," he cut her off, "Yes. Yes I do."

She bit at her nail again. "Oh. Well, then, thank you." She turned to leave then, feeling the weight of the air crush down upon her.

"Gabriella?" His voice propelled her backwards and she glanced at him. His gaze was fixed downwards once again.

"I'm sorry," he said so quietly she had to strain to hear him. Gabriella nodded, before turning to go back into the kitchen, leaving Troy with his thoughts.

---

Really, she should have just left the room alone. But Gabriella was never one to think rationally when she was upset, so after the men cleared out of the house; Jeff to work, Jason and Chad to the gym and Troy downtown to take photographs, Gabriella quietly snuck into Edward's old room. It was late in the evening; almost eight o'clock. They had hung around all day, trying to find things to keep Gabriella preoccupied. At two-thirty, when Jason suggested 'Family Game Afternoon', she had left the room, gone to Troy's room and simply lied on the bed, drifting in and out of sleep. When she wasn't sleeping, she cried. Now was her chance to revisit the mess she had created.

Cracking open the door, she let out a gasp when she realized just how angry she had been. The room was in shambles, broken wood and glass covering the floor. Though Troy had pulled her from the wreckage, he, nor anyone else, had bothered to clean it up.

She scoffed. Why would they? She wasn't the only one angry with Edward, angry with Troy. She shuddered as the air settled around her and in careful steps, made her way over to the closet.

The ripped up pieces of Sharpay's photos still sat on the floor, and she felt her eyes prick with tears at the sight of them. She would not come here again, not anytime soon, anyway. Taking a deep breath, she closed the door quickly and raced back to the room across the hall. Troy's room.

As soon as she stepped into door, she flung it shut and leaned against it, breathing heavily. She felt instantly calm; the smell of sandalwood relaxing her. Despite her feelings towards the owner of the room, she couldn't deny that here was much safer than any other place in the house.

She couldn't go to Edward's room, for obvious reasons, and she didn't dare go to the kitchen, as that's where it had all gone down. Shouldn't she want to get out of this room, too? Troy was a part of everything, was he not?

She looked down at her bandaged hands again. Someone who hated her, someone she treated so badly, someone who wanted her hurt...they wouldn't have done this. They would have left her crying in her room, stinging cuts and all. Yet Troy hadn't.

What did this make him? She could no longer classify him as the asshole she had made him out to be. He clearly wasn't. And all things considered, he had been honest with her; brutally, maybe, but honest.

She never would have thought him to be these things; honest and well...caring. She remembered the pained expression on his face after she struck him and she pressed a hand to her face. It was still haunting her.

Whether she liked it or not, she knew things between she and Troy Bolton were about to change drastically. They shared something now; a mutual betrayal and hatred for Edward.

This didn't replace the anger she felt towards him, the frustration of knowing that he had been aware of Edward's infidelity for over a year and never uttered at word. She couldn't fault him though. Maybe, if she had been more amiable, more civil, he would have told her. Maybe she wouldn't have felt as much contempt towards him as she did, and maybe she would have believed him.

She knew he was right, though. He had no reason to tell her given the nature of their relationship and even if he had, she wouldn't have believed him. She would have cut it down to jealously, that Troy was upset that Edward was successful and in love. An attempt he could have made would have been futile.

Taking a deep breath, she laid on his bed; the sheets cool and his scent pleasant. She inhaled, letting the comfort over take her and she fell asleep.

She fell into unconsciousness then, dreaming disjointed scenes. In her dream, she had been at the alter at a wedding, Edward standing before her in a gorgeous tux. The bride however, was not her, but rather a thin blonde in a poofy gown.

"_Edward!"_ Gabriella whispered, trying to run forward. Her legs were restricted, and she glanced down. Gabriella was wearing jeans, damn the material and Edward's shirt. She brought a hand up to her hair to run her fingers through it, but yelped. They were still bloody, the bandages having disappeared, and onto of her head sat Troy's beanie, pulled down comfortably over her ears. She shook her head, and attempted another step forward. She slid on something, and fell to her knees.

The floor was drowning in photographs. She lifted them, cutting her fingers deeper in the process. There were hundreds, photos of Sharpay, of Edward, of Angie the model and dozens of just blue eyes; someone's blue eyes. She shuddered, trying to stand, but slipping again.

"_Edward, don't!"_ she gasped. She tried to run towards him, but every step she made, she stumbled on photographs. She felt herself fall to the ground once and for all, but before she hit the sea of paper; a hand grasped her wrist. She turned slowly.

"I've got you," she looked up and was stunned to see Troy holding her up, his grip strong. "Don't worry."

"Bolton..." she whispered and he shook his head, gathering her sore fingertips and kissing them. She pulled back, but he held on tighter.

"I've got you," he repeated, seriously and she frowned.

"Why?"

He smiled slightly before responding. "You've got my hat."

She awoke hours later when the sky had already turned dark, only remembering bits and pieces of the dream. How she really slept that long? She had passed out around eight, when it had still been relatively light out.

She turned in the bed, deciding that sleep wasn't going to come to her again and slipped out of the jeans and t-shirt she had weakly pulled on. Carefully, she pulled out a long nightgown from her suitcase and a terricloth robe before setting across the room to go downstairs.

Stepping gingerly down the stairs, careful not to wake anyone, Gabriella noticed that the kitchen light was on. She glanced at the Kit-Kat clock on the wall in the living room and frowned. It was nearing four in the morning.

Drumming her fingers over the banister, she debated on whether to turn and go back up to Troy's room, or whether she should just bite the bullet and go get her glass of milk. She had no idea who was up, which one of the four men in the household couldn't sleep.

Sighing, she descended the rest of the stairs and paddled across to the kitchen. She felt her muscles tense when she saw who was there, but she shouldn't have been surprised.

Troy was seated at the kitchen table, dressed in nothing but a pair of red plaid pajama pants. He was hunched over a bowl of Fruitloops and was moving his spoon around, swishing the sugary circles in the pink-tinted milk. The dark circles under his eyes were more prominent than ever and she glanced down at her bandaged fingers and felt tears prick at her eyes.

He looked up slowly, his eyes growing wide upon seeing her. "Hey," he whispered.

Willing the tears back, she nodded at him before pulling out a chair at the table. "Hi."

He looked her up and down, as if searching for a sign that she might break at any second. "Couldn't sleep?"

She shook her head, keeping her gaze down on her twisting hands in her lap. "Sort of."

He straightened, letting his spoon drop against the rim of his bowl. "Were you uncomfortable?" He said quickly. "I changed the sheets and everything before I took you up there last night, if that's what you're worried about. The mattress isn't too old, but I know there's a groove in one side and—"

"Troy," Gabriella said gently, cutting him off. "It's fine. Really. Thank you."

He looked away then, clearly embarrassed. "Just one of those nights then?"

She chuckled bitterly. "Just one of those lifetimes, really."

"I wanted to tell you," Troy murmured. Gabriella watched as he methodically grouped the remaining soggy cereal; all the red loops here, all the green ones there. "I wanted to tell you everyday, but you and I..." He looked up at her then, "We're hardly amicable with each other."

"I'm mad at you," she said honestly, "I'm not going to pretend that I'm not because I am. However...you didn't owe me anything," She grasped a strand of hair and plucked at a split end. "You had no reason to tell me anything. You were right. Your loyalty was to Edward."

Troy swallowed, his eyes back on the cereal bowl. "If I had told you, would you have believed me?"

Gabriella didn't say anything for a moment, weighing her options. "No," she answered confidently. "I wouldn't have."

Troy nodded. "That's what I thought." He shoved the bowl away from him.

The silence transcended over them like a thick blanket in spring weather. It was neither comfortable, nor awkward. It was just there and they were stuck with it. Over the years, they had never exchanged as many words as this without raising their voices or using expletives. Gabriella considered this as she traced patterns onto the wood of the table.

Troy Bolton had become an enigma. She had hated him for three years without any real reason and sitting across from him now, she realized this. She realized she didn't know him at all. She didn't know what his childhood was like, nor did she know where he went to school or what he studied. She never knew his interests and she never knew the minutiae, things like his favourite colour or first kiss. She had never bothered.

Why she should have? He didn't want anything to do with her, he made that clear. Hadn't he? She scanned her mind, trying desperately to find a time in which he had hissed that he hated her, just as she had said to him so many times. Nothing came to mind.

As if reading her thoughts, he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "I never hated you, you know."

Scoffing, Gabriella rested her head on the table, the wood cool against her cheek. "You had a funny way of showing it." Even if he had never said the words, they were implied time and time again. She had lost count of how many times he had called her a bitch.

"I know," Troy said, "I was just...I was so frustrated."

"Why?" she asked, closing her eyes.

"I was frustrated because I hated _Edward_," Troy answered honestly and her eyes shot open. "Since we went to that stupid diner, I hated him. I hated that he was such a bastard and complete sleaze-ball. What he did was inexcusable."

He sighed heavily. "And you...I thought you _forgave_ him. I thought you just forgave his stupid actions and took him back. To me, that was almost as bad as what he had done. So, in turn, I said some things that weren't so nice to you."

Gabriella yawned, feeling the tears prick at her eyelids again. "That's a stupid reason."

Troy shrugged. "I didn't know how else to act around you. I guess...I felt you deserved better than some son of a bitch who didn't care about you." He swallowed. "You still deserve better."

Here he was, this man she knew nothing about, whom she had been so angry at only hours before and she felt guilty. Shouldn't the roles be reversed? Shouldn't he be feeling irrevocably horrible for his actions against her? His reasoning for never telling her the truth? But the dark circles under his eyes told her that he did and she felt even more wretched. What would she be like if she was sitting in his chair and he in hers? Could she be good enough to feel remorseful? Or would she have been vindictive just to get him back for all those times he'd called her a bitch? When she realized she couldn't answer that question truthfully, her stomach dropped. There was a reason Edward had gone to Sharpay. Gabriella wasn't just enough; she wasn't _good_, either.

"Yeah, well," Gabriella said, feeling the tears run across her face; over her nose and onto the table's surface. "Maybe I got what I deserved. I haven't exactly been the best person in a long time." Or ever, she added mentally.

Troy shook his head. "No one deserves that."

"I'm sorry for what I said last night," Gabriella said suddenly, shifting so her forehead was pressed against the table, her hair fanning around her. "I know it wasn't intentional. I was just so angry. I am just so angry." She felt her frame begin to tremble as the tears rolled down her face freely.

"I didn't tell you," Troy said quietly, fidgeting with his thumbs. "I deserved every mean word in response."

"I'm sorry I slapped you," she choked out, "Oh my god, I'm such a bitch. I wasn't angry at you, I was angry at him. Oh god, I slapped you twice."

Troy bit his lip. "That's okay, I deserved it, I—" He glanced up and paused, seeing the top of her head and nothing else, her shoulders shaking. "Are you crying?"

"No," came the muffled response and Troy felt his heartbeat pick up at the sound of her voice.

"Hey, hey," he said softly, scooting his chair closer to hers. He placed his hand on her shoulder and shook her slightly. "Look at me."

"No," she mumbled, tossing her head from side to side. "I'm a mess."

"Gabriella," he said softly, gently, and the tone of his voice caused her to slowly lift her head, her watery eyes meeting his own red-rimmed ones. He was looking at her seriously.

"Don't cry over him," he whispered, his hand burning through the fabric of her shirt and onto her bare skin. She trembled, feeling the warmth radiate all the way down to her toes. "He's not worth it."

She bit her lip feebly as more tears coupled in her eyes. "I'm not just crying over him."

Troy searched her face for a moment before realization spread across his features. Recoiling from her, as if he had been burned, he looked down at his lap and squeezed his eyes shut.

"I'm not worth it either," he said softly. "Not in anyway shape or form." He rose quickly then and grabbed the roll of paper-towel, pulling a few sheets off and bunching them before handing them to her.

"Here," he prodded them at her and she let out a sob at his gesture. He sat back down, startled and pulled his chair even closer to her. "Hey, please, please don't do that!"

"Why are you being so nice to me?" she whimpered. "I've been horrible. You hate me."

"I've never hated you, I told you," he whispered, shrugging. "I just don't understand you...or at least, I thought I didn't."

She looked up at him and the expression on his face felt like a punch in the gut. For the second time, she noticed how exhausted he looked and how similar he was to herself. His right cheek was still slightly swollen and she felt the bandages on her fingers and she broke all over again.

"Thank you for this," she said softly, "For the bandages, for your bed, for...for listening. You don't know how much I appreciate it."

"It was the least I could do."

He extended his hand and she stared down at it. "The paper-towel," he said softly, "I'll throw them out.

Slowly, she reached out her hand and dropped the damp cloth in his open palm. When she pulled back her fingers brushed his and she shivered. He was so warm...

Troy tossed the ball into the waste bin by the wall with practiced ease." He looked up, meeting her tired eyes and he frowned. "You should go get some rest."

She nodded. "You should, too."

"Nah," he answered, "The night is gone for me. I'm an insomniac on the best of days. You, however, can still salvage it. So, go."

She stood, feeling more exhausted than she had in ages. "Thank you," she whispered quietly and he nodded, before standing as well to retrieve the box of Fruitloops. Feeling the words bubble in her chest, Gabriella called out his name.

"Yeah?" he asked, dumping the cereal into the bowl he had abandoned.

"For the record, I hated you," she said, swallowing roughly and he flinched.

"Yeah, I'm aware, thanks."

"I said I _hated_ you, Troy," she looked down at the ground. When had things gotten so awkward between them? "Not that I _hate_ you. Now...now I don't know how I feel about you."

The box of cereal slipped from his fingers at her words and the contents scattered on the floor. Troy jumped, as did Gabriella.

"Shit!" he cursed, bending to clean up the mess, but as he did, his elbow hit the bowl and milk and cereal tumbled across the table. "Shit!"

"Oh!" she said, clamping a hand to her mouth. "Let me help you!"

"No, no!" he said frantically, his face flushed red as he grabbed the roll of paper towels from the wrong end, causing it to unravel. "Oh for the love of—"

Gabriella grabbed the paper-towels and ran them over the table, collecting the milk. Troy sprung into action and found the broom, gathering the cereal into the dustpan. As Gabriella put the empty bowl in the sink, she turned around and found Troy staring at her as he leaned against the bowl.

"You know," he began, flustered. "I think this is the first time you and I have ever had a civil conversation."

Gabriella thought about it. He was right. "Well, then. That's got to count for something."

When the mess was finally all cleaned up, Gabriella ascended the stairs to his room and glanced over her shoulder to find him leaning against the counter, arms folded over his bare chest and his cheeks still crimson. Despite everything that had happened between them, despite everything they had discussed and everything that had transpired over the last two days, Gabriella found herself smiling at the sight.

Her first smile since she had arrived at the house.

---

So chapter plans are officially finished as of sixth period English class on Tuesday. I currently have it planned out for seventeen chapters. The pacing in this chapter isn't as crazy extensive as TDBU, so that's why it's shorter. However, when I planned out TDBU, it was originally for 25 chapters and I cut it down, but I don't think this will be the case with this one. Everything has a purpose, I only have one or two filler chapters. So yes, good times will be had.

Also, I forgot to upload the third chapter song directly after updating, so if any of you missed out, it's up now. I really recommend downloading this chapter's, as it honestly is Troy's theme song for pretty much the whole story. And it doesn't even really give that much away, how lovely.

Thanks for all the support, you guys. I can't believe I broke 100 reviews at three chapters. You guys are amazing.


	5. The Softer Side

---

**Mamihlapinatapei**

Yaghan, noun: a look shared between two people with each wishing the other will initiate something that which both desire, but neither wants to start.

---

"She's starting to scare me, guys," Jason said, his voice a hushed whisper as he glanced out the kitchen window. "She's like...dead."

Chad rolled his eyes, stirring the pasta he was preparing for dinner. He glanced out the window Jason was stationed at and looked past him. "You're being dramatic, Jase."

The dark haired man shook his head. "No man, she's like, she...yeah; she's dead. She just sits there and reads all those...books."

He was staring at Gabriella's back, as she was seated on a bench in the backyard, a novel open in her lap. She had been sitting there for the past hour, her sweater pulled tight around her. Her face was pale and her hair was in a knot at the back of her head. He sighed.

A week had passed since the revelations in the kitchen, but it had only taken Jason half an hour to decide that Edward was an asshole, no questions asked. Jason hated being deceived, hated being left out of the loop. He hated liars, easy chicks (where was the challenge?) and he hated cheaters. It didn't matter if you cheated at Monopoly or if you cheated on your wife, you were immediately in Jason's bad-books. Yes, he had several of them.

So yes, Jason did not like Edward. Yes, the guy was dead and yes he had loved him dearly as a friend for years, but that did not mean he had to like him. He had fucked up and had he been there, Jason would not have hesitated to tell him so to his face.

A part of him wished that he could.

Troy, however, was a different story. Within five minutes, Jason had been mad at him. What the fuck was his deal, keeping all this a secret? Didn't he care how it would affect this girl? He lamented that the last thing he wanted was Gabriella hurt, and that was why he hadn't revealed the truth sooner. To his, Jason had called bullshit.

Then he had found Troy sitting outside Edward's old bedroom, nursing a bottle of beer.

"_What the hell are you doing?" Jason said harshly, looking down at his life long friend. The man on the ground moved his head slightly before bringing the bottle of beer to mouth and taking a drink._

"_Sitting here," he said simply and Jason furrowed his brow._

"_You drunk?" he asked, nudging Troy with his foot. He shook his head._

"_No," he said, "It would take a lot more than these to get me wasted. I'm a little tipsy though." He paused then, pressing his ear against the door and closing his eyes. "Did you hear that?"_

_Jason looked around, confused. "Did I hear what?"_

_Troy pressed his ear harder against the door. "That," he said, "she's crying."_

_Jason didn't say anything. Gabriella had been crying for the last three hours, her sobs echoing through the halls as the sounds of objects smashing worked as her background music. _

"_Are you listening to her cry?" Jason asked, thoroughly confused and a little creeped out. He watched as Troy bit his lip, debating whether to say anything further or not._

"_It hurts to hear her cry," Troy whispered, his words slightly slurred._

_Jason suddenly felt bad for his friend. "Man, you should get some sleep. It's been a long day."_

_Troy shook his head again, resting his swollen cheek against the door. Gabriella had struck him hard. "No," he closed his eyes, "I'm going to wait until she stops, then I'll make sure she's okay."_

_Pausing, Jason swallowed. "You don't think she'd try anything, do you?" His mind always went to the worse possible scenario before considering any rational thoughts. Gabriella was in a really, really fragile state right now and coupled with all the termoil of the last few months, the notion that the sound of glass breaking could drive her to something more fatal made him cringe and feel weak in the knees. _

"_No," Troy said and Jason let out a sigh of relief. "I just wanna make sure she's okay, or...as okay as she can be."_

_Jason knew the conversation was over then and decided to go take his own advice and get some sleep. Upon entering his room, he realized something._

_He was no longer mad at Troy._

Still, standing there and staring at the broken girl made him slightly bitter towards the man. Troy was currently seated in the living room, flipping through a graphic design magazine and making notes; book marking pages with an assortment of neon post-it notes. He hadn't seemed fazed by Gabriella's odd behavior.

"She's freaking me out, dude," Jason said. "It's like when Edward died, he took her with him."

Chad put his with a loud thwack. "Let her be, Jason!" he said, once again feeling older than his twenty-seven years, stuck being the parent in a sea full of adults. Hadn't he been wild and crazy once, too? "She's grieving and going through a lot of bullshit, so stop trying to make more drama than there already is!"

"I'm not making drama!" Jason cried, annoyed at the implication. "I'm just hardcore concerned, okay? She's been doing everything she can to stay distracted! She's cooked us dinner like fourteen times, yet she just picks at her food. She's cleaning everything—I can see myself in the utensils! She's read every single book we having lying around the house, even all of Jeff's '_Watchmen_' comics! She planted flowers!" Jason groaned, exasperated. He looked around for some support, but it didn't appear he was going to receive any. He glanced at Troy, who was scribbling something in his notebook.

Jason rolled his eyes and snatched it out from underneath Troy's pen. Troy frowned.

"Hey!" he said, grabbing for the notebook. "I'm working!"

"She planted flowers, Troy," Jason said pointedly, holding the notebook over his head. "Flowers. Our front and back gardens are now filled with red and yellow flowers."

Troy furrowed his brow, flipping a page of the magazine and marking something on one of the post-it notes. "They're nice flowers, man."

Jason nearly dropped his notebook. "Look, you should go out there and make her come inside and get her to...I don't know! She's been staying in your room, therefore..."

Troy dropped his pen and looked up at Jason, folding his arms. "Therefore what?"

"I don't know!" Jason said suddenly, dropping the notebook on the table. Troy dove for it, hitting his knee against the coffee-table in the process, sending the magazine and his portfolio flying to the ground.

"Shit," he cursed, glaring at Jason. "Look what you made me do."

"Damn," Jason said, bending down to pick up the items. "Sorry, man." He grabbed the magazine, wincing when he saw the crumpled, dog-eared pages before picking up the portfolio. Something caught his eye and he went to inspect it further before Troy snatched it away from his view.

"Hey, man, what was—"

"Don't worry about it," Troy said, quickly, zipping up the portfolio. Jason narrowed his eyes; he knew what he saw. But before he could open his mouth to inquire further, Jeff came down the stairs, holding his stomach and pouting.

"You guys," he said, staring down, "I'm fat."

Jason rolled his eyes as Jeff began lamenting about his inability to lose weight and how Gabriella was preparing meals that would help him lose it more effectively. At that, Jason snapped his head over to bug Troy further, but saw that the man had gathered his belongings and was already at the top of the stairs.

But Jason was like an elephant and he never forgot, especially not when things were all lining up and starting to make sense.

---

It was the middle of the afternoon that Wednesday and the lighting outside was perfect. It was warm, yet not too hot and Troy figured it was the perfect time to venture outside and take some of the shots he had been dreaming about since he saw Gabriella planting red and yellow peonies in the garden two days earlier.

Gardening had become one of the many hobbies she had taken up. She worked from nine in the morning, planting the flowers with such delicate care, as if they were her children. He watched her for nearly half an hour from Edward's bedroom window as he shoved the broken wood of the bed frame into piles. He watched as her small hands dug the holes, cupped the flowers gently and patted the soil around them. He watched as she lovingly sprinkled water over them before standing back to inspect her work. He sighed. She had so much love to give and now that Edward was gone and revealed to be the bastard that he was, she had no one to give it to.

The flowers were lucky.

Stepping outside, he went over to the garden and knelt down in front of the garden Gabriella had created, adjusting the brightness on his camera. Framing the shot, he took a picture of one particularly perfect flower and thought back to Gabriella's face when Chad had inquired to why she had spent the day gardening.

"You guys are letting me stay here for free," she said quietly. "You're...just know that this is the least I can do to try and attempt to repay you."

She acted like she owed them so much. But what had they done but make her life more miserable? She would have been so much better off not knowing about Edward's betrayal. Bringing her to the house had led her to his skeletons. It had done her no good. She wasn't healing. She just broke, once and for all.

It was the opposite, really, he thought, framing another shot; they owed her. Or really, Troy owed her. Troy had been the one who had kept that information from her for so long, keeping her in the dark and allowing her to plan a wedding to a man who didn't really love her. He swallowed, the same pit in his stomach surfacing as he remembered how awful he had been. He was the one who should be doing things to repay her, things to make her whole and happy again. He was the one who had delivered the news that had broke her, after all, and she had so easily gone with it.

He thought back to their conversation in the kitchen nearly a week ago, the way she had cried and apologized. She was so backwards, he should be the one groveling for forgiveness. And he was, just in his own, different way. Part of doing so was giving her the space she needed and obviously wanted.

Jason didn't understand. He tried, so he got points for that, but in the long run it was impossible for him to really grasp what was going on and how Gabriella felt about it. Then again, he knew nothing of the words Troy and Gabriella had exchanged in the kitchen. So it was stupid of Jason to insinuate that Troy could wave some magic wand and get Gabriella to smile again.

He thought back to the clumsy way he had dropped the cereal box at her admission that she didn't hate him. He had expected her to yell and scream, glare at him and treat him awfully after everything that had happened. However, she hadn't. She had become quiet around him, an almost pleasant disposition. He felt overwhelmed at this, knowing that the thing he had believed would cause her to hate him even more had done the opposite. He didn't know how to feel about it.

"What are you doing?" He glanced up, startled and swallowed roughly when he saw Gabriella standing there, a book in her hand. She was dressed in jeans, a purple tank top and a long white cardigan. She looked tired, despite all the hours she had slept lately.

"Just taking some still-life photos," he answered quietly. "These are some gorgeous flowers you planted."

Her eyes snapped up to his profile as he raised the camera and took another snapshot. "You garden?" she asked, curious.

He shook his head. "No," he admitted with a small smile. "But my mother is really into agriculture, so I know a little bit about it."

"Really?" she said and she found herself sitting on the ground cross legged, so she was down to his eye level.

"Yep," he said again, zooming in on the flower's petals. "I got dragged to the garden centre nearly once a week."

"Really?"

He didn't like her one word questions, but quite frankly, they were better than the silence she had been practicing. He figured he should be thankful for the little he was getting. "My childhood could be summed up with that sentence."

"Hmm," she murmured, picking at the strands of grass and resting her book in her lap. "I saw that Edward's room was cleaned out."

Troy froze at her words, fiddling with a dial on his camera, adjusting the contrast. He had been the one to go through the mess, sweeping up the broken glass and recycle the torn photographs. It had taken him all day and he was exhausted and more angry at Edward than he had ever been when he picked up a photograph of Ed and Sharpay with a coppery red smear on the back from where Gabriella had cut herself. He had dumped the majority of the stuff in the trash before taking a few select items, books that were still whole, the baseballs and a few shirts and burying them in the closet.

With Edward's presence lessened in the house, it was beginning to feel like things could go back to normal again. Then he remembered Gabriella's, that her figure was curled against the sheets in his bed and he knew that things would never be the same as they once were.

"Yeah," he said, flicking through the photographs he had already taken. "Better than leaving it."

She looked him over before softly whispering, "You cleaned it out, didn't you?" She swallowed, "Don't ask me how, I just know it was you."

He brushed his bangs out of his eyes. "Yeah, it was me," he adjusted his beanie on his head.

She straightened slightly. "I was going to do it, you know," she looked down, "Well, eventually."

He smiled weakly at her. "I know."

"That's why you did it, isn't?" she asked and he nodded. "Cause you knew it would be too hard for me?"

"After everything you've been through," he sat on the ground across from her, searching through his images again, "I figured it was best to make this as painless as possible."

She swallowed the lump in her throat, trying to force the tears back. "Thank you," she said, shaking her head; trying to rid herself of the dark thoughts in her mind.

"No problem," he said genuinely and was surprised when she scooted closer to him. He stiffened.

"Can I see some of the photos you've taken?" she inquired hesitantly, bowing her head. He smiled at her from the corner of his eye before conceding and pressing the appropriate buttons so the photos displayed on screen.

"Wow," she gasped, instinctually reaching forward and grasping the camera with her own hands. He felt the warmth of her fingertips and flinched when she recoiled. "Oh, I'm sorry, I just—"

"Don't worry about it," he said easily, handing her the camera, careful to avoid contact. "Go ahead. You just press this button here," he said, pointing to it, "to go through them."

Accepting the camera from him, she hunched over and looked through the images, her eyes growing wide. Her breath caught in her throat at one in particular and she looked up at him, her eyes full of wonderment.

"Wow," she repeated, staring at the red and yellow flowers on screen, "You're work is amazing..."

He flushed, embarrassed at her praise. "Yeah, well, the subjects were quite grand, too. You've done a great job with the flowers, I've told you that."

She shook her head. "No, seriously, I mean, I knew you were good, but—"

"What do you mean, you knew I was good?"

Her eyes darted down back to the camera. "The photos of Angie, that model?" she said and he rubbed his neck, remembering the particular conversation that had transpired when she had walked in on him working. She grimaced, as if recalling it, too. "I mean, I saw one then. It was fantastic."

"Thank you," he said, humbled. "That means a lot."

"Which do you prefer?" she asked, her fingers still flying over the button. "Still life or photographing people?"

"Honestly?" he sighed, "Still life. City scapes. Landscapes. Models are fussy and too self-absorbed. I only use them every once in a while, and usually it's just my friend's girlfriends. They don't expect anything."

She furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "Oh, you know, that I'll give them the shot that will make them famous," he stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned back on his palms. "Some proposition a lot of interesting things to get that shot," he said, his face disgusted. "They don't seem to realize that as a small-town, freelance photographer, the chance of me helping them get that is nearly impossible."

She handed him back the camera, frowning. "You're wonderfully talented," she admitted, "They're wrong to try to use you, but they're not wrong when they think that you could make them become big."

He smiled, touched by her comments. "Thank you, Gabriella," he said, testing the name. He glanced at the book in her lap.

"What are you reading?" He asked, shifting slightly and she raised the book so he could see the cover.

"_The Virgin Suicides_," he read, "Great book."

Her eyebrows shot up. "You've read it?"

He nodded. "Yeah, a while back. It's good, some wonderful prose and dialogue. Not as girly as it's made out to be," he brought the camera to his eye again, "The cinematography in the film was spectacular."

She looked down at the cover, inspecting the face of the actress who had portrayed Lex in the movie, tracing her features. "I've never seen the movie."

Troy lowered his camera, turning to look at her. "Really?" he asked, stunned, "You haven't? It's brilliant, the score is kick-ass, too."

She lifted her eyes slowly to his. "Why is it such a shock that I've never seen it?" she asked softly and he shrugged.

"I don't know," he answered, "You just seem like a person who has seen all the classics, all the artisty indie films. Just an assumption."

She didn't say anything for a moment, picking at more strands of grass and letting them pile up like a child. "I rented it once," she began, "a couple of years ago. Edward didn't want to watch it though, and it ended up just sitting there, so I returned it cause he hated late fees, especially for something we hadn't even viewed."

Troy bit his lip. He hated Edward, but more than that, he hated hating Edward. It was easy when he was still around, but now that he was gone it felt like a sin. That disliking someone who was dead was wrong and immoral. He couldn't help it though. He didn't like Hitler either, and he was sure no one would fault him that. Edward had been different though, Troy admitted to himself. He had been his best friend for twenty-five years. Then Gabriella happened...and well, things had unraveled.

He turned to Gabriella who was fingering the pages of the book curiously. "Well then," he said, causing her to snap to attention, "you and I are just going to have to watch it together."

Her eyes grew slightly wide. "You'd really want to?" she pulled at a weed in the grass, "with me?"

"Of course with you," he answered, his tone joking. "I can't think of anyone else I'd rather."

When she looked at him that moment, her face suddenly blossoming with colour and a small smile playing at her lips, he felt tug at his heart and he lifted the camera, framing the shot and before she could protest, snapped a picture of her.

"Troy!" she gasped, bringing her hands to her face. It was too late though, Troy had already gotten his shot and was examining it on the screen of the camera. He looked up at her and smiled genuinely.

"Beautiful." He felt his heart pick up speed, nearly falling over itself at the soft, pink blush that spread across her cheeks and neck. She ran a hand through her hair and stood up suddenly. He frowned.

"Um, I'm going to go," she said, biting her lip. "I'm going to go make dinner."

"It's three o'clock in the afternoon," he said, glancing at his watch. He didn't want her to go just yet.

"Yeah, well...it's better to eat before six and then not until the morning," she said, brushing off her jeans. "Good diet trick for Jeff."

Troy nodded. "Okay, then," he said, hiding his disappointment. "I'll see you at dinner."

She turned and ran up the steps back to the house and he looked at the screen on the camera again, her face looking back up at him. He let out a sigh.

"Beautiful," he let the words fall from his lips and he sat there, letting his thoughts bask in the afterglow of his beating heart.

---

The poker game was a tradition that had started when the guys had been in high school. They had thought they were badasses, just like all seniors in high school did, and decided that playing poker in the Bolton's basement every Wednesday night added to this. Friday nights were designated date nights and Saturday's for parties. So Wednesday it was.

And the tradition continued on. When they all went to separate colleges, they played online poker. The number of players present always varied, some would have too much work, some would have work and others would simply be too tired to play, but they still did. When the four years were finally over and they had earned their degrees, discovered the real world and partied so hard each of them had blacked out on at least one occasion, they moved in together and the poker games continued.

They had debated, at first, whether to continue the poker games without Edward. It seemed weird, not having him in his shirt and tie, his hair always perfect in comparison to the rest of them. He always lost, but he always enjoyed the game thoroughly and it had been he who had suggested playing online. So for a few weeks following his death, they hadn't played. Then they had decided to again, in memory of him.

Now they were just playing because it was what they did.

So that night, the four of them sat around the kitchen table, cards in hand, beers beside them and a stack of poker chips. They had invited Gabriella, but she had politely shaken her head and gone upstairs to bed, even though it was only eight-thirty. Troy had watched her as she made her way out of his line of vision and thought back to their conversation that afternoon, their conversation the week before and he was reminded of a line in the book she was reading.

As her hair fell in front of her eyes and her hand ran along the banister, he shivered as the words floated in his head. "_It didn't matter in the end how old they had been, or that they were girls, but only that we had loved them, and they hadn't heard us call. Still did not hear us calling them out of those rooms where they went to be alone for all time._"

He took a long drink of his beer, trying to rid his brain of the passages that may or may not relate to her, of the pain in her eyes and the soft smile that had graced her lips when he had offered to watch the movie with her. When things were steadier, when things stopped moving and she could breathe again, could smile freely; he would.

"So, Troy," Chad began, cigar hanging out of his mouth, much to Troy's dismay. He hated smoking. Chad inspected his hand of cards. "I saw you and Gabriella in the garden this afternoon." He slapped a card on the table. "Hit me."

Jason dealt him a new card and smirked, taking a puff of his own cigar. "Yeah, I saw, too," he leaned back his chair. "You two were just like, sitting on the front lawn like teenagers for half an hour. What did you talk about?"

Troy waved a hand in the air, trying to rid the room of the smoke. Jeff crossed across the table and gave him a grateful smile. "None of your business," Troy placed a card down and picked up his beer, taking a sip. "Hit me."

"Look," Jason said, dealing the card and pulling the cigar out of his mouth. "You're the catalyst in all this."

Troy lowered the bottle and blinked. "What?"

"The catalyst," Jason explained, stacking his chips one by one. "You're the one who found out about Ed, you're the one who kept it a secret and you're the one who revealed it."

Troy bowed his head. "Wow."

"I know," Jason said, taking another puff of the cigar. "Intense stuff."

"No," Troy shook his head. "I'm just surprised that you know what that word means."

Jason rolled his eyes. "Oh, fuck off, Bolton."

Jeff leaned on his palm, swishing his beer back in forth in it's bottle. "It's interesting that she'd talk to you," he said quietly. He glanced up at Troy. "Did she approach you? Or vice versa?"

"She came and talked to me," Troy said, feeling slightly exasperated. He saw Chad watching him closely out of the corner of his eye. "Look, I don't see what the big deal is, it's not like we discussed anything important."

"Oh yeah?" Chad asked, and Troy glared at him. He was supposed to be his partner in crime on this. "What did you talk about then?"

"The book she was reading, photography, nothing important." He was going to keep their late night conversation a secret. It was something he wanted just for himself.

"I thought she was going to hate you," Jeff said, examining his cards. "So it's just as shock, is all."

"Whatever, man," Troy said, drinking the last bit of his beer before tossing his cards on the table. "I fold."

Chad quirked an eyebrow. "What the hell? We've barely started playing and you're already out?"

Troy nodded. "I'm tired."

Jason snorted. "So? It's not like you can go to sleep. We're literally sitting in your make-shift bedroom.

"I'm going to go do some editing then," he said resolutely. This time, it was Jeff who protested.

"Seriously, Troy, we all know you're just trying to avoid the subject of Gabriella," he said, drawing out the last word.

Laughing, Jason brought his beer to his mouth. "Something you want to share with us, Bolton?"

Troy shoved his hands in his pockets. "You guys shut up. You're drunk."

"No, I think this whole thing with Gabriella goes deeper than just you feeling bad," Jason all but slurred. "I think—"

"Shut the fuck up, Jase," Chad said, picking up a poker chip and throwing it at him. It smacked him in the temple and he yelped in pain. Chad looked at Troy and Troy smiled in thanks.

It made sense, really, Troy thought as he walked up the stairs two by two. Chad had been and was the only one who had known the reasons behind Troy and Edward's month long fight. Naturally, he would know that this was a sensitive subject and not one Troy wanted to share the details of just yet.

Or ever, really, but thinking about that made him half to think about it, so he was just going to leave it for now.

But as he passed his bedroom door, he felt his fingers itch to pull open the doorknob, peak in and make sure she was okay. Finding that resistance was futile, he did just that and poked his head in the door.

Gabriella was cuddled under his duvet, the moonlight reflecting over her profile. Troy felt something pull at his heart and his breath caught in his throat the sight.

Closing the door, he let out a deep breath, knowing that just looking at her face made him want to reconsider his silence.

And it scared the hell out of him.

---

Updates may slow down, but don't panic because I'm not entirely sure if this is true or not. I'm writing my exams at the moment and next week is dedicated to finishing up the school's yearbook. However, I have the weekend off and intend to get a few more chapters written up to remedy this and any spare moment I do have will be dedicated to writing. :)

Thanks for the continued support, and don't forget to snag the chapter's track.


	6. The Inner Child

---

**Mamihlapinatapei**

Yaghan, noun: a look shared between two people with each wishing the other will initiate something that which both desire, but neither wants to start.

---

She was wearing the black dress she had spent weeks searching for and was swept up in Edward's arms. He was laughing, his eyes shining as they looked down at her and they twirled in a perfect circle. He grasped her hand tightly and she reveled in the way his thumb stroked across her knuckles. Her breath caught in her throat when his eyes met hers. He was so stunning, so handsome and so charming. She had never danced like this, so perfectly, so wonderfully. She felt like she was in a movie, where the heroine finally was rescued by her prince. It was like a fantasy.

Still, it didn't explain why she was once again wearing Troy Bolton's hat. As Edward twirled in around the dance-floor, she glanced over his shoulder and the caught the eyes of the man whose hat was settled over her up-do.

His eyes bore into her own, before breaking away and following the graceful sway of her body against Edward's. He watched her feet first, the way they stepped _one two three, one two three_ and then moved up her legs to her hips, the way the swiveled from side to side. Then up her elbows, to her slim forearms and wrists to where her hands were clinging to Edward's neck. Finally, they met her gaze again.

She felt herself twitch in Edward's embrace, feeling uncomfortable under Troy's strong stare. What was his deal? Why was he giving her the up and down glance? Why wouldn't he look away? She swallowed, wishing he would stop, but at the same time, wishing he would never look away.

And look away he didn't. For the entire duration of the song, his eyes remained on her dancing figure and she was captivated by his gaze; his blue eyes darkened by some unknown emotion.

Why wouldn't he just look away? He was ruining her dance, ruining her night! Being in Edward's arms felt tainted, wrong, when Troy was looking at her the way he was. She shuddered and smiled apologetically at Edward who noticed her discomfort.

She couldn't take it anymore. She needed to get him to stop staring, needed to know what his deal was. She broke away from Edward, murmuring that she'd be right back. Adjusting the beanie on her head, she picked up the skirt of her dress and stomped over to where he was.

Placing her hands on the table, she glared up at him. "_Why,_" she demanded, "_Are you staring at me_?"

She expected some sarcastic remark in response; this was how he had been reacting to everything she had said all night. Instead, however, he smiled a gentle smile and pulled the lavender coloured rose that had suddenly settled itself in his lapel out and extended it to her.

"_Well, Montez_," he said, as she flushed and accepted the flower, "_You have my hat._"

With this remark, she recoiled and reached up to touch her hair. Indeed, she did, but why didn't he just ask for it back? Turning away from him, she lifted the rose to her nose and took a small sniff before looking back to the dance-floor.

Edward, however, was gone, in his place a dozen photographs of he and Sharpay. Gabriella frowned.

"_Well, then_," she said, shuffling over and kicking the photos. "_That was a waste of time_." She looked through the photos with her toe until one caught her eye. Bending down, she picked it up to examine it closer.

It was a short of blue eyes, gorgeous blue eyes and she squinted, knowing she had seen them somewhere.

Turning to glance back in Troy's direction, she noticed he was gone. Still, his hat remained on her head and the rose in her hands and she had never felt so confused in her life.

That was, until she woke up.

Turning over in her bed, Gabriella blinked slowly, bringing a hand up to rub her tired eyes. What the hell was that dream about? Why was she reliving the wedding where she and Edward met? Why did she keep dreaming that she was wearing Troy's hat?

Feeling spooked, she reached up and made sure that it wasn't on her head. When she verified that she hadn't lost her mind, she dismissed the thoughts and let out a heavy sigh and swung her legs over the bed.

So much had happened since the talk she and Troy had had in the kitchen that late night, yet so little. She was still grieving, learning to live with the information everyday and while it wasn't painless, it was getting easier. Somehow, the knowledge that Edward was a slimy bastard in every sense of the word made me less difficult for her to feel bad about his death, as awful as that sounded. But she felt that she deserved a little bit of slack in this situation, too.

Tying her robe around her waist, she decided that today was the today. She had spent the last week moping, the last three months mourning. Now it was time to heal, time to move on.

It wasn't going to be easy and it was going to be difficult, but she had to do it. Step by step, piece by piece, inch by inch, she was determined to be whole again. The fact that she felt this way at all made her slightly proud as she landed on the second floor.

She glanced around. It was only eight-thirty and the house seemed deserted. She entered the kitchen and found a note from Chad saying that he, Jeff and Jason had all left for work and that Troy was asleep on the couch if she needed anything. She peered into the living room, and sure enough, the brunette man was on his back, snoring quietly.

She drew her bottom lip in between her teeth and watched him for a moment before walking over to the fridge. Troy, she thought, had been amazing these past few days, she could not deny it. She felt a pull, a strong urge to change the way things were between them; she had felt it since she woke up in his bedroom almost two weeks earlier.

He hadn't deserved the words she had flung at him and he hadn't needed to treat her the way he did. For everything he had done, she was thankful and in that moment as she remembered the bandages on her fingertips and shin, the way he had spoken with her so easily in the garden, she pulled out a carton of eggs from the fridge and walked over to the stove.

With the first crack of the egg, she knew what she need to do. Upon seeing two yokes fall into the pan, a sign of luck; she was certain.

---

Balancing the plate of eggs and toast on one hand and somehow managing to hold two mugs of coffee in the other, Gabriella carefully walked into the living room. It was just after nine now and since it was Friday, Jason, Jeff and Chad had departed early in the morning. Troy, however, could sleep as long as his heart desired, so he and Gabriella were the only ones home. That was the beauty of being self-employed, really.

She bit her lip as she sat down on the love-seat adjacent to the sofa Troy was spread across. He was wearing a white v-neck t-shirt and grey sweatpants, his body tangled in the plaid comforter he had covered himself in. He was lying on his side, his mouth slightly open and his bangs falling in his eyes. She resisted the odd, strong urge she had to brush them away.

Gabriella debated with herself, wondering whether it would be a smart move to wake him. He looked wonderfully peaceful, but at the same time, horribly uncomfortable. She felt a tinge at her heart, the knowledge that he had given up the comfort of his own room for her benefit hitting her like it was the first time.

Once again the fact that she barely knew him hit her and she felt even more guilty. He had, since Edward's past had been revealed, been absolutely wonderful to her. She remembered their conversation in the garden a couple of days before and hoped to herself that he wouldn't forget what his offer, and even more so, that he wouldn't back out on it. It may have just been one to do something as simple as watching a movie, but it meant the world to her. That after all she had done, he still would let her in his life. A smaller, superficial part of her was just excited because it had always been a movie she wanted to see.

Glancing down at her hands, she saw the small cuts on her fingertips, almost fully healed and smiled to herself, remembering the way the Spiderman bandages had graced them for days. She remembered the way he had offered her the paper-towel when she had been crying, and the random picture he had snapped of her. He had called her beautiful, an adjective she had rarely heard in relation to herself. Edward had preferred pretty, nice and elegant, never beautiful. It had been nice, hearing it, even if it was from someone she hadn't expected.

There was a lot more to him that she had originally thought, this much was very, very apparent. Now it was just up to her to move forward.

Could she though? Did she have the strength? More than that, would she be accepted? She set the coffee mugs down on the table as she pondered this. Just because he had been a nice guy to her lately didn't mean he wanted her friendship, didn't mean he wanted to put the past behind them entirely. Still, as she watched his sleeping face, she desperately yearned that he would.

He suddenly stirred and she felt herself stiffen. What was she to do now? The plate felt hot in her hands and she tried to still their trembling. She watched as he yawned before sitting up slowly, stretching his arms over his head and running a hand over his eyes. He blinked wearily before glancing around the room, pausing completely when his eyes fell on her.

She smiled nervously and he stared back in return. She swallowed. "Hi," she said softly. "Good morning."

He blinked twice. "Um, hi."

Carefully, with both hands, she extended the plate of food towards him. "I um, made you breakfast," she said quickly, staring down at her lap, not wanting to gauge his reaction. She peaked out of the corner of one eye and saw him staring at it. She extended it further, but he didn't move.

"Um, there's coffee, too," she said, giving up and setting the plate down on the coffee-table in front of him. She gestured to the mugs. "I don't know how you take your eggs or your coffee, so the coffee is black and the eggs are scrambled. I hope that's okay."

When he still didn't say anything, she began twisting her hands together, feeling out of place. She shouldn't have assumed that a simple thing like making him breakfast was suddenly going to break the dam and that they could work on...whatever it was they had. "Um, I understand if you don't want to eat it. I don't even know if you're a breakfast kind of person, I just thought..."

"Am I dreaming?" Troy asked, his gaze snapping up to meet hers. Her eyes widened and then narrowed at the question.

"I'm sorry?"

"Am I dreaming?" he repeated, pausing in between each word. "Cause this seems an awful lot like a dream."

Gabriella blinked, confused. "Um, no, I don't think so. I mean, that would mean I'm dreaming, too, or that we're in some alternate universe." She stopped, embarrassed by her rambling. "But no, um, this isn't a dream."

Troy smiled, before hesitantly reaching over and grasping the mug closest to him in his hand, taking a sip. "Sorry, I just never thought I'd see the day you'd make me breakfast."

Gabriella flushed wildly, feeling yet again ashamed for her past relationship with him. He noticed her discomfort and shook his head.

"I didn't mean it like that," he answered honestly, leaning down to pick up the fork she had laid on the plate. He smiled at her. "Thank you, really. This looks great."

She felt her shoulders straighten and her disposition brighten. He had accepted it. He had taken her olive branch. This was good, no, this was _great_. She smiled and reached over to grab her own mug of coffee, bringing her legs up to curl underneath her on the love seat.

She watched as Troy ate quietly, trying to think of what to do next. She bit her lip before taking another drink of her coffee, scalding her tongue. "Is everything okay?" she asked.

He nodded, taking a bite of toast. "It's great. You're an awesome cook."

She shrugged. "It's just eggs and toast."

Troy leaned back on the couch. "No, really, it's great," he said, lifting his fork to her mouth again. "The only decent cook out of the four of us is Chad and he gets tired of playing mom to us all the time and sometimes makes us fend for ourselves."

"Is that so?" Gabriella asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yep," Troy said, nodding. "One time Jason tried to cook us dinner," he paused, shuddering, "And it was awful. It was like, he tried to make this hybrid with pizza and macaroni, like a casserole...I don't want to talk about it, not that I actually remember it. I remember how it smelt..." He shuddered again before smiling. "Having you around has been a nice treat."

Taking another sip of her coffee, she grinned. "It's been nice, being here," she admitted and she saw the expression on Troy's face change.

"Really?" he asked, sounding almost afraid of what her answer might be. "Cause it's been pretty dramatic lately."

Running her finger along the rim of her mug, she didn't answer right away. "Maybe so," she said, her eyes flickering up to meet his own, "But that doesn't mean that you guys haven't been anything less than amazing." She bit her lip. "Especially you."

Pausing mid-mouthful, he shook his head, waving his hand in protest. "Oh, no, seriously, don't—"

"Really, Troy," she said seriously. "I've been nothing but an awful hag to you in the past and how do you repay me? You put Spiderman bandages on my paper-cuts. I don't know if I'll ever be able to fully convey how appreciative I am."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "It's no big deal."

She let out a deep breath, fiddling with the hem of her cardigan. "I want to say something," she said slowly and he looked up at her curiously. "But I don't want you to say anything until I'm finished. Would that be alright?"

He nodded. "Yeah, of course."

"Okay," she said, closing her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said quickly, opening one eye to look at him. He looked blindsided.

"W-what for?"

"For everything," she said, again in one fluid breath. "For being such an absolute bitch to you for the last three years without any real reason. I'm sorry I never got to know you just because I was too stubborn and I'm sorry that it affected your friendship with Edward so much."

Troy shook his head. "Nah, Gabriella, my friendship with Edward was shot the moment he met Sharpay, and if I'm being honest, a long while before that." She felt a sharp stab in the gut and he winced. "Sorry."

"No, no," she looked down at her blurred reflection in her coffee. "If I just keep pretending nothing ever happened, then I'm never gonna heal. It's okay to say his name, to say her name, to talk about it."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Really now?"

She nodded. "Really. But this isn't the point of the conversation. The point is that I'm sorry for being a bitch, more than a bitch...a downright awful person."

Troy smirked into his coffee. "You were a bitch, Montez."

She glared at him, feeling her cheeks flush with anger and embarrassment. "You know, Bolton, I am trying to make an effort here and if you have the gaul to throw it back in my face then maybe I'm making a mistake." She made a move to leave, but his soft laugh stopped her. She paused, marveling at the sound.

It was...wonderful.

She looked down at him, frozen in her movement and saw his face, his eyes dancing in mirth. He smiled brightly at her, before opening his mouth and beginning to speak.

"I was joking," he said, his mouth still curved. "But that doesn't mean it wasn't true. You admitted it yourself."

She pursed her lips and sat back down. "Oh."

"Thank you," he said softly, ducking his head. "I appreciate it. And I was an asshole many a time, so I think we're even."

She bit her lip. Here goes nothing. "I know this is...kind of out of left field, but you know what? I would really like it if we could maybe...start over."

His head snapped up at this and she was surprised by the smile that worked it's way onto his lips. It looked so...happy, so genuine and almost childlike. "Really?" he asked, examining her carefully.

She twisted a strand of hair around her finger. "Well, yeah, if you'd like to."

He let out a breath, leaning back on the couch, letting his head rest on the back of it. "Are you sure I'm not dreaming?"

She laughed slightly and he sprung up again. "What?" she asked under his curious gaze.

"You laughed," he said incredulously. "You just _laughed_. I don't think I've heard you laugh in years. Not since you first started coming around with Ed."

She shrugged. "That's probably because I haven't," she admitted honestly. "Not a real laugh, anyways."

Troy looked down at this and she shifted, feeling awkward all of a sudden. The moment was quickly broken, however, when he abruptly stuck out his hand to her.

"What you doing?" she asked, looking down at it.

"Just take it," he urged and she looked at him skeptically. "Just do it, you know you want to." He waggled his eyebrows and she felt her wall break a little bit more.

Hesitantly, she took his hand in her own and felt her body flood with warmth and he gripped her fingers. She was surprised at how soft his hands were, how large they were in comparison to her own. He gave her hand two shakes before grinning a toothy smile at her.

"I'm Troy Bolton," he said, shaking his bangs out of his eyes. "And you are?"

She gaped at him for a moment, trying to gather her bearings. She got what he was doing, what he was playing at; she just couldn't believe that he was. Wasn't this something that happened in a movie, in a prime-time soap? A silly little game that she never thought she would take part in. Despite all this, she grasped her hand and shook back. "Gabriella Montez," she said sweetly. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," Troy said, pulling away and leaning back on the couch. "What brings you to this humble abode, Ms. Montez?"

She giggled, before clamping a hand over her mouth, shocked at her own actions. Troy raised his eyebrows, smiling amusedly, before laughing himself. Gabriella, for the second, found that she loved the sound.

"You can call me, Gabriella," she said coyly. "And, oh, you know, just drifting here and there, trying to move on from my ex-fiancee."

Troy frowned. "Well, that's a darn shame, Gabriella," he said animatedly. "A lovely lady like yourself should have a man on her arm."

"Okay, wait," Gabriella said, laughing. It felt so good to laugh. "Are you hitting on me?"

Troy cocked his head. "No. Just stating the obvious."

Smiling, she drank the last drop of her coffee. "Well, what about you? What are you doing here, Troy Bolton?"

It was his turn to shrug. "Ah, you know, working, eating breakfast, the usual." He sat up, resting his elbows on his knees. "So, Gabriella, what are you doing this afternoon?"

She brushed a strand of hair out her eyes before responding. "Um...I don't know. I don't have anything planned, actually."

This seemed to make him happy and he bounced his knees slightly. "Did you, um, by any chance want to accompany me while I run some errands?" he asked shyly. "It's nothing super exciting, but since you have nothing better to do and we have just met and all, I think it would be nice for us to get to know each other better."

All things considered, she had not expected him to accept her bait so easily, to really want to start over with her. Yet he had, he fully embraced her offer, seemed just as pleased at the notion as she was. In spite of herself, she allowed herself to smile once more before nodding.

"Why not?" she asked. "I'd love to."

The grin that lit up his face was worth every single bit of anxiety she had felt.

---

"Wait," Gabriella said, staring at the vehicle in front of her. "We're talking your truck?"

Troy paused, one hand on the handle of the passenger door, the other holding his keys. "Well, yeah, what'd you expect?"

Gabriella surveyed the large, rusty white monster in front of her. She heard it pull up in the middle of every afternoon and was half-convinced that it was on it's last legs. It looked sturdy, that was obvious, but appearances could be horribly deceiving. She bit her lip.

"How about we take my car?" she asked, gesturing to her tiny silver automobile parked in front of his.

"Oh, no," he said, shaking his head. "We're going in my car, no question about it, especially if you really want to go through with this whole 'moving on, starting over thing'."

Gabriella placed a hand on her hip. "Are you going to use that as an excuse everytime you want something that I don't agree with?"

Troy debated this for a moment. "Probably." He grinned cheekily. "Is it working?"

Rolling her eyes, she nodded. "A little bit."

He laughed. "Well then, wonderful," he opened the passenger door and waved his hand, gesturing for her to step inside the car. "Your chariot awaits."

She narrowed her eyes slowly and took the hand he was offering, helping her up into the drunk. She slid in and he closed the door behind her. She sighed. She was trapped.

Edward had driven an SUV and had been ridiculously anal about it. You were not allowed to eat in the SUV, that was his number one rule, but there had been a multitude of them. You weren't allowed to mess with the radio stations, the CDs. You weren't allowed to roll down the windows more than half-way, you weren't allowed to rest your purse on the floor of the car. Make sure your shoes were clear of snow, dirt, sand, water and other suspicious forms of matter before sitting down. He hated belt buckles, afraid they're scrap the interior. It was exhausting driving with Edward. He washed it every single Wednesday and he waxed it every other Thursday. Sometimes, when Gabriella would speak to him in the car, he'd hush her and turn down the radio, thinking he heard something rattle. It used to drive her crazy.

Troy seemed to be a little bit more...lenient, when it came to his car. There were old coffee cups on the floor, a dog-eared book on the dashboard and a hula-girl bobble head beside it. It wasn't messy per say, but it had a certain sense of disarray with it, stacks of paper and equipment from photo-shoots and the like sitting in the backseat. An expensive looking CD player, radio and speaker system was installed, and she was willing to bet that he put more money into it than he had in purchasing the whole car itself. She smiled slightly as he slid in on the seat beside her, nestling his portfolio on the space in between them. She glanced at the leather book curiously.

"Mind if I take a look?" she asked, reaching forward and he blanched, before grabbing out of her hands and tossing it in the backseat. She frowned.

"Hey, I—"

"It's not my best work," he said hastily, sticking the key in the ignition and backing out of the drive slowly. Gabriella furrowed her brows.

"Why would you have a portfolio of stuff that wasn't your best work?" she asked skeptically.

"Oh, you know," he said, "Going against the grain. Besides, I don't carry around my best shots, that would be absurd. I could lose them."

"Okay, you don't want me to see whatever is in there, I get it," she said stiffly, folding her arms. "You don't need to make up elaborate excuses."

He sighed. "I'm just...weird about showing people my work."

"Uh huh," she said, shifting slightly to face him. "And yet you showed me the photos of the flowers with no hesitation on Wednesday?"

"Look," Troy said, switching lanes. "I don't really want to get into this. I know it sounds weird, but I just don't. Can we talk about something else?"

Gabriella was surprised at his almost pleading tone. Wetting her lips, she nodded, before turning to look out the window.

Silence settled in between them and she briefly wondered if this was such a good idea. Not starting over with him, but going with him. It was too fast. They should be taking baby steps, not trying to repair what they had by jumping in head first. At that moment she noticed that he had put a CD on, a soft acoustic tune filling the quiet. She sat up when she realized she recognized it.

"_Going back to the corner where I first saw you, gonna camp in my sleeping bag, I'm not gonna move_."

She turned to him. "The Script?" He turned to her, confused.

"Well, yeah, who doesn't?" He smiled a lopsided smile. "Well, I like this song, at least. A lot of the rest of it is a little produced, but not bad."

"I love this song," Gabriella said, leaning back in the seat and enjoying the beat. "I listened to it on repeat for days. I can't believe you like it, I could never find another fan."

Troy smirked. "Edward liked country, right?"

"Yes," she said with a shudder. "I mean, don't get me wrong, some of it was great. But hearing it on loop? Everyday? Every car ride? It was hard." She watched as the scenery flickered by them through the window. "Who else do you like?"

"The Walkmen, Iron and Wine, Muse, Sam Cooke," he shrugged. "Nothing particularly obscure, but it's not like I listen to the radio."

Gabriella nodded in understanding. "I like your taste."

"What about you?" he asked, pulling into the parking lot of a strip plaza.

"I like a lot of what you mentioned," she said, "but I'm partial to Ben Lee, Sarah Harmer, Sarah Mclaughlin, you know. Stuff I can cry to if I feel the need."

Troy grinned and cut the ignition. She glanced around at her surroundings before peering at him curiously.

"A craft store?" she asked. "Why are we at a craft store?"

He stepped out of the truck before she finished her sentence and she glared at the closed door, before turning to watch as he ran around the front of the car to her side, pulling the door open for her. She stared, slightly surprised at his chivalry.

"Chivalry's dead, you know," she said, stepping out of the car. He winked at her.

"I'm trying to revive it," he said cheekily. "There's nothing wrong with a little bit of chivalry now and then."

"I didn't say there was," Gabriella responded as they fell in step with each other. "Now want to tell me why we're at a craft's store?"

Troy raised his eyebrows, holding the door to the store open for her. "You really want to know that bad?"

"Well, I'm awful curious," she said as they stepped in the door, the smell of wood and paint filling her nose. The woman at the cash register smiled brightly upon seeing them.

"Good morning, Troy!" she said cheerfully. She was a short woman with grey hair and glasses. "We haven't seen you in a while."

"Hey, Delia," he said, waving to the woman. "I know. I've been busy. Things have been kind of insane the last few months."

The older woman nodded understandingly and turned to look at Gabriella. "And who is this lovely lady?"

Troy jumped to attention. "Oh, sorry, Gabriella, this is Delia. Delia this is Gabriella Montez...um, a..."

"A friend of Troy's," Gabriella said confidently, extending her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Delia."

"Likewise," the woman said, shaking Gabriella's hand. "Aren't you a looker! Why have I never see you around here before?"

Gabriella shrugged, blushing slightly at the woman's compliment. "Thank you. And oh, you know..."

"Wait a second," Delia dropped Gabriella's hand suddenly and grasped her chin in her hands, inspecting her face. "I recognize you." Her eyes grew suddenly wide and Gabriella saw something spark within them. "Did you say your name was Gabriella?"

She swallowed, slightly taken aback by the woman's actions. "Y-yes?"

Delia removed her hand and broke into a grin. "Oh," she said softly. "Oh! Well, then!" She looked over at Troy, beaming. Gabriella glanced at him and was startled to find him rubbing the back of his neck and bright red.

"Okay, Delia, we've got things to get and very little time to get them in, so, we'll all talk about this some other time," he placed his hands on Gabriella's shoulders and began to steer her forward, away from the front of the store.

Delia just grinned brighter. "Okay, dear! Shout if you need anything!"

When they were out of earshot, Gabriella broke away from Troy's grasp. "What was that all about?" she inquired as he began puttering down the aisle, picking up pieces of coloured paper. She glanced around. They were in the scrapbook aisle.

"I don't know, she's crazy," he whispered. Holding up a piece of bright yellow paper, he turned to her. "Does this blind you?"

She squinted at the colour. "A little bit." she watched his back curiously, leaning against a stack of canvas. "Do you want to tell me why we're here, now?"

"Oh," Troy said, adjusting his beanie on his head and setting down the stack of paper that was quickly growing larger. "I teach photography to some of the neighborhood kids on Saturday mornings and I'm in need of some supplies for them to mount their work on, you know? Make it fun for them?"

At this, Gabriella straightened, suddenly intrigued. "You teach photography?" she said, impressed. "To children?"

He stood up, his knees cracking as he did, holding a ton of brightly coloured sheets in his hands. "Well, yeah. A couple of the kids got curious when they'd see me with my camera, so I offered to teach them some tricks. They told their friends, who told their friends and now I teach fourteen kids from the ages of eight to thirteen photography every Saturday morning." He counted the amount of paper he had collected before bending down to gather a few more. "Their parents pay me a little bit, seven bucks per child, so it works out to a nice chunk of change. As a freelance photographer, I don't make a whole lot."

Gabriella's mouth dropped open, slightly stunned. He taught kids photography? For only seven dollars? She was shocked. The Troy Bolton she thought she knew was nothing like this.

He glanced up at her and laughed. "Close your mouth or you'll catch flies."

"No, I'm just..." she trailed off. "W-why have I never seen the class?"

Troy paused, smiling softly. "It's been on hiatus until you had settled in. I figured it was the only courteous thing to do."

She flushed. "That was kind of you."

He shrugged. "Ehn, I've done kinder things."

"So," she said, propping herself off of the canvas. "Do you enjoy teaching them? Do you like kids?"

"Well, yeah," he said, gesturing for her to follow him to a different aisle. "I was a kid once, too, and it's nice to see them so interested in something I love. With all the digital cameras and webcams, cheap editing programs like the ones they use on Facebook, kids aren't as into photography as they once were. It's like a dying art. I like to see them expand their creativity," he smiled softly. "Some of the kids are fantastic. There's this one kid, Sam, he's twelve, and he takes the most fantastic shots of the kids down the street who play street hockey. The kid's going to be a sports photographer, I can guarantee it, especially if I have anything to do with it."

"Then there's Abigail, the sweetest little nine year old, and all she does is take pictures of her stuffed toys, but," he paused, "they're good, you know? She puts her whole heart and all of her effort into them and it shows. It's a rewarding thing and I would do it for free if the parents hadn't insisted on paying me after the first few times."

At this point, Gabriella was genuinely in awe. He liked kids. Edward had hated them.

"Besides, it helps me revert to my own childhood, you know?" he said, stopping in the aisle where nothing but packages of stickers lined the shelves. "I used to run around with my grandma's Polaroid camera taking pictures of bugs and my mom while she cooked. Even if Chad and Ed would mock me, and then make me go play a sport. Don't get me wrong, I love basketball, but this...this is different." He glanced up at her sheepishly. "Sorry, I was rambling."

"No, no," Gabriella said, shaking her head. "It's nice to hear someone so passionate. It's a change from what I'm used to."

And indeed it was. Near the end of Edward's life, the fun had been sucked out of everything with him. Playing baseball, reading, his job, being intimate with Gabriella. It was like a chore, something that he couldn't wait to get out of the way. Then he'd hop on a plane on a business trip, so eager for a change of pace. How much everything made sense now, she mused slightly.

But Troy was practically oozing passion, the way he talked so animatedly about the kids he taught. Even the other day in the garden, she had seen how much he loved his art in the way he had so carefully framed each picture. It was refreshing.

Troy tossed her a boyish grin before gesturing to the shelves with a cock of his head. "Want to help me pick out some stickers for the kids? This is probably their favourite part. You get the girls; they didn't like the Spiderman ones last time."

Gabriella laughed. "You got the girls Spiderman?" She stopped, a thought crossing her mind. "Wait, the bandages were totally yours, weren't they?"

He nodded with an aw-shucks kind of eye roll. "Guilty as charged. I'm just a big kid at heart. So, yeah, you pick out something pink and sparkly for the Abigails of the group, okay?"

Before she could even really consider what she was doing, Gabriella found herself pouring over sheet of stickers after sheet of stickers. She spent the next half an hour debating with Troy in the aisle as Delia listened on, hearing their banter and the occasional laughter, happy that maybe, just maybe, things were falling in place for her favourite customer.

---

There's a time during almost every chapter of anything I've ever written when I don't think I'll be able to make the word count I've set for myself. And nearly everytime, I exceed it.

THIS WAS MOST CERTAINLY THE CASE WITH THIS ONE AND IT GAVE ME SUCH A HARD TIME.

Kay, guys, Zac and Vanessa are in Montreal (well, I'm going to assume he's still there because there's no reason to assume he isn't, yet) which is a five hour drive away from me.

Living with this knowledge is hard.

Thanks for all of your support, as usual, guys. I'm over the moon at the response; it's incredible motivation. Expect the next update mid-week! :) Love you all. Don't forget to grab this chapter's track!


	7. The Teacher

---

**Mamihlapinatapei**

Yaghan, noun: a look shared between two people with each wishing the other will initiate something that which both desire, but neither wants to start.

---

Since Edward had been revealed to be a lying, cheating scum-bag, Gabriella had been developing lists of things about him that had bothered her. She enjoyed lists; the columns that so neatly explained A and B and C. The things that allowed her to figure out what needed to be done and what had been done. The things that listed pros and cons about decisions. The things that gave her order.

So she began categorizing at first. Into small things, like bad habits and movie choices. She moved onto medium things, like work ethic and finances. Then to the bigger things, like kids and her friends. Somehow, though, she found her lists got scrambled. Everything was in one giant lump that declared that he had been all wrong for her. That he hadn't been the one that she was meant to be with. While this made losing him easier, it also made her wary.

How long could she wait around for the one she was supposed to be with?

So instead of musing about it, she created one giant list in her brain with a title underlined and bolded reading 'Things I Hated'. Periodically, she went through them.

Edward didn't like kids, that was the one that bothered her the most. She loved kids, she wanted kids and while she assumed that one day he would, too, a part of her had always worried that she wouldn't be able to convince him. He liked country music, something she was not all too fond of. He wouldn't let her eat in the car. He never wore a shirt to bed, even in the winter. He'd leave the cupboard doors open. He hated house work. He hated Kate Gosselin.

His job came first, his favourite movie was 'Matchstick Men' and he refused to drink coffee. He was a wimp when it came to exercise, didn't really get along with her mother and used far too much expensive cologne. He hated Harry Potter, loved Tim Burton movies and hated late fees. He hated lists and schedules and save the dates.

He didn't like when she tried to do more than kiss his cheek in public. He hated when she couldn't decide on what to wear. He hated when she'd spend the entire weekend gardening, just because she could. He hated her inexplicable addiction to earrings. He hated when he'd find her hair in his brush. He hated when she ran her hands through his hair, messing it up. He hated when she wore eyeliner. When he was stressed, he'd chain smoke and when he was drunk, he'd cry.

The lists of what he liked and didn't like about her and what she realized she couldn't stand about him went on and on. She was discovering, that in actuality, there wasn't much she liked about him deep down. This also worried her. Her ability to see through others certainly wasn't strong and she was very certain she'd have to kiss many more frogs if she ever wanted to find her prince. More than that, however, it scared her that she had been so prepared to marry someone who she was quickly discovering she didn't really like.

And suddenly, she found herself making new lists. In the week since their trip to the craft store, Gabriella had discovered infinite things about Troy Bolton, her dead fiancee's old best friend. The one she had fought with about everything for the last three years. The one she was slowly trying to make amends with. The things she discovered were all things she hadn't even fathomed.

Troy wasn't arrogant. He was merely confident, strong in his arguments and passionate about what he was doing, defending. He was artistic beyond belief, the beauty he captured in his photographs breath-taking. He was very articulate, careful with how he worded each sentence and hoping that he got his point across each time. He was quick-witted, taking any good natured jabs she had thrown at him and hitting her back twice as hard. He was a kid at heart, his favourite superhero was Spiderman.

He had a fondness for plaid, v-neck t-shirts and his grey beanie. He loved children and taught them photography. He actually preferred his eggs sunny-side up, but Gabriella's scrambled ones had been so good, he was considering changing his mind. His music taste was almost identical to hers and his car was a mess. He had a wonderful laugh. He was hoping, in a year or two, to have saved enough to invest in his own business, his own real studio. He was ambitious, he was charming and he was good.

And he blushed like a teenager..

Growing closer to Troy had done something to her. When she woke that Saturday morning, she was calm, peaceful and content and for the first time in the last six months, her first thought wasn't of Edward. It was of Troy.

She was wondering if he owned any other beanies than the grey one he was always wearing. It was a completely absurd thought, something she had filed away to the back of her subconscious, but as it danced on the surface of so much more, she turned over in his bed and pondered the implications of it all. It occurred to her, then, that she was finally moving on.

She was healing.

She let out a deep breath and stretched, yawning. A soft buzzing noise could be heard from the room across from Troy's and she frowned. What the heck was it? It was faint, barely there and Gabriella sat up in bed before flinging her robe on to go investigate further.

Upon opening the door she realized that it was coming from Edward's room. The chilling pain and apprehension that would creep into her veins everytime she stared at it settled in, but it was no where near as strong. It was there, but just barely. Somehow, this knowledge made it easier to breathe and she pressed her hand to the doorknob before turning it.

Gabriella entered Edward's old room for the first time in nearly four weeks, the sound growing louder as she opened the door. Her eyes grew slightly wide when she saw Troy standing there, dressed in a red plaid flannel shirt, jeans and his beanie, a paper mask over his mouth and an electric sander in his hands.

He turned slightly at the intrusion, raising his eyebrows and turning off the sander hastily.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" He exclaimed, pulling the mask down over his mouth. "What are you doing in here, Gabriella?"

She shrugged, shuffling her feet nervously. It felt weird to be in the room. It was empty now, save for the shelves still attached to the wall and several boxes in the closet. "The noise woke me up," she said honestly, coming to stand closer to Troy. "I got curious."

"Ah," he said before frowning. "I'm sorry to wake you."

She waved it off with her hand, tightening the belt around her waist as she came to a stop right beside them. "Don't be, it's late anyways." She looked down at the electric sander in his hand. "So what are you doing in here anyways?" 

Troy set the sander on the ground before stepping back and folding his hands over his chest. "I figured this room could use a little renovating. I mean, it's going to no use here being empty and well," he pulled the beanie off his head and ran a hand through his hair, "Edward sucked at the up-keep. This room has needed painting since before we even moved in here."

Gabriella nodded in agreement. "He never liked doing household chores," she said briskly, "So he had to deal when I accidentally dyed his socks pink."

Troy laughed before turning to look her in the eye and she suddenly felt the breath knock out of her. His smile was lopsided and his hair was tousled and messy, sticking in every direction from his hat. His blue eyes were sparking and dancing in mirth as they watched her and she was completely taken away.

For the first time, she noticed that Troy Bolton was kind of good looking. Not even kind of good looking, but really, really good looking.

Taking the information, she filed it in the back of her mind and looked at him strangely. He was still staring and hadn't said anything. "What?" she asked, laughing slightly.

"Nothing," he said, still grinning. "Good morning."

"Good morning," she responded quietly. "That was a little delayed."

Troy shrugged before leaning over to examine his work. "Everything's been a little delayed with us, in case you haven't noticed."

She smiled at this, a sentence that in the past otherwise would have put poison in her veins. He was right about that one, but they were making slow progress. They could be considered friends now, couldn't they? Acquaintances, at the very least. It was nice, either way.

"So what are you doing in here anyways?" she asked looking over his shoulder. "What's the sander for?"

"Oh," Troy said, standing up. "Just filling in some of the holes in the walls from the picture frames and junk he had plastered on the walls. After they're sanded down, they can be primed and then painted." He turned to Gabriella and grinned. "Then the real renovations can begin."

Gabriella raised her eyebrows, interested. "You're going to paint the walls?"

Troy nodded. "Well, yeah, what did you think I meant when I said the room hadn't been painted in years."

"I don't know," Gabriella said softly, running a hand along the wall. She swallowed. She loved projects, she loved something to preoccupy her time. This seemed like the perfect one, and more than that, she had the urge to spend time with Troy. Waste time with him. Get to know him better. This seemed like the perfect opportunity.

"Um, Troy?" she asked quietly, and he looked away from the wall over in her direction.

"Yeah, Gabriella?"

"Do you think," she paused, letting her palm rest against the smooth surface. Suddenly, she lost her nerve. It was stupid, he probably wanted to work on the room himself.

"Do I think what?" Troy asked, blinking. She glanced at him before feeling a knot develop in her stomach and she looked away.

What did she have to lose, though? A small part of her whispered everything, but the rest of her said nothing. It wasn't as if Troy would hold her request against her, after all, and she really only had things to gain. A closer friendship, relationship, anything with Troy. The man who suddenly seemed to have more layers than a wedding cake and more charm to him that a fairy-tale prince.

"Do you think I could help with the painting?" she said timidly, afraid of his answer. "I mean, I have nothing better to do, and I figure you could use some help." She smiled sheepishly. "It doesn't seem like Jeff or Jason will be too eager for physical labor and Chad is too busy."

Just like she had a week earlier when presenting him with breakfast, she waited cautiously for his reaction. To her surprise (and great pleasure) he broke into a wide grin, shoving his hands into his jean pockets.

"Well, sure," he said, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "That'd...that'd be great. Always could use a helping hand."

"Really?" she said excitedly, clapping her hands together. "I love projects, Troy, I'm not even exaggerating." She was practically spinning around the room in pleasure, excited at the prospect of having a project that would last her longer than an afternoon to distract her, and that it included Troy.

He tilted his head back and laughed. Once again, she was instantly warmed by the sound and surprised at how pleasant it was. Edward had always chuckled or guffawed, never really laughed. This was just so...different.

"You're so enthusiastic," he responded, slipping his beanie back onto his head. "It's cute."

She felt herself blush ever so slightly at his comment, like she was a teenage girl. She turned to face the wall so that he wouldn't see. "What colour are you painting the wall?"

He shrugged, adjusting the hat till it sat perfectly on his head. "I don't know. Why don't you pick the colour?"

She froze, feeling her heart skip a beat. "Really? I can pick the colour."

Troy nodded. "Sure. I mean, other than the heavy lifting and parts that involve tools, I'm not too good with all the decorating thing. So go ahead, go wild. Pick whatever colour you want."

Gabriella folded her arms over her chest, gauging whether he was serious or not. When he didn't laugh, smile, or instantly take back the offer, she narrowed her eyes slightly. "So you're saying I could even pick candy stripe pink?"

Troy laughed slightly. "You could even pick candy stripe pink."

She felt herself grin before pressing her lips together to stop it from making her face burst. "Okay. Well, when did you want to do this?" she asked. "I'm on what I'm thinking of making a permanent leave of absence from my job, so...it doesn't matter for me. How about Friday? Is Friday good for you? If not we can try any other day, I mean, I'm obviously completely flexible in regards to this—"

"Gabriella?" Troy said, putting up a hand. "I'm self-employed. Everyday is good for me."

She smiled. "So, then, Friday?"

A smile graced his own lips. "It's a date," he said softly, before a light shade of red spread up his neck to his cheeks. "I mean, not like, a date-date, but you know, like, a scheduled time representative of—"

She cut him off this time. "I know, Troy," she said with a smile. "You may regret this, though. I really enjoy things like this."

"Maybe," Troy said, tilting his head to the side and giving a smile, his blush still prominent. "But somehow, I doubt it."

She added that he had a beautiful smile to the list in her head, along with that he himself, was beautiful, too.

---

After making several elaborate lists on what she needed, what she didn't need and what she might need, Gabriella decided a trip to the hardware store was necessary. She ran it by Troy, who looked over and approved her lists, adding a couple of things here and taking away a few there. He seemed just as excited at the prospect of their joint project, but when she had suggested they make the trip to the store together, he declined, saying he was busy that morning.

To say she was disappointed was a slight understatement, but a freshly shaved and happy Chad appeared suddenly and offered to go with her. Never one to reject company, Gabriella accepted his offer and half an hour later, they were standing in the paint section of Home Depot.

And Chad was just about ready to kill himself.

"Gabriella," he said exasperated. "How many different shades of yellow can there be? Just pick one already!"

Gabriella rolled her eyes and selected a Ralph Lauren paint chip and compared it to the Benjamin Moore shade. "Chad, this is important. The wrong shade could offset the entire room in the absolute worst way. It's important that you be absolutely pendatic in situations like these."

Chad leaned against the card that was filled with drop sheets, sand paper, rolling brushes and paint trays. "Yeah, but you're taking like, six hours."

"We've been here for half an hour," Gabriella retorted. "You didn't need to offer to come if you were going to be bored."

Chad shrugged. "I don't mind, really. It's not like I have much to do today, anyways."

Gabriella set the paint chips down and looked at him. "Are you alright?" she asked softly. Chad looked up at her curiously.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" he answered and she shrugged.

"Maybe," she said honestly, "But you've been looking a little blue."

Truth be told, the mother hen role was wearing thin on Chad Danforth. He used to be the craziest one out of their five-some, completely up for streaking in the middle of the night and drinking until he blacked out. He carried a basketball with him everywhere and had dreams of being drafted for the NBA. Dreams that could have come true had he had busted his knee in his second year of college at a Halloween party.

Suddenly, it was like everything got serious. He had to get a real career, a high paying job and support himself. All of his dreams were shattered and he had nothing, yet all of his friends had worked hard, not relying on talent alone to get them through and were succeeding. Everything was harder for Chad and he was stuck trying to pretend to be rational about things he knew nothing about just to keep his head above water.

So when his friends acted immature or childish, Chad felt a flicker of resentment and fell into his mother role. More than anything, though, he resented that role.

Of course, he wasn't about to confess all this to Gabriella in Home Depot, so he settled for the second thing that always bothered him.

"Just the lack of a girl on my arm, Gabi," he said earnestly.

Gabriella frowned. "What about Taylor Mckessie? You guys seemed to spend a lot of time together when I was...you know."

Chad shook his head, rolling the cart back and forth. "She's not interested, Gabriella."

"But are you—"

"Trust me, I'm sure." He looked at her then and she realized this part of their conversation was now over. "How are you doing?"

She contemplated the question. How was she doing? Today she had probably felt the best she had felt in months, this much was apparent. Somehow, with this knowledge, it was easier to talk about.

"I'm doing better," she said softly, shuffling the paint chips in her hands. "I thought I'd never feel whole again, you know? And I still don't, but I'm feeling stronger, better. Most of all, I'm thankful I never married Edward."

Chad let out a low whistle. "I can imagine."

She nodded, feeling a small lump develop in her throat. "I would have been miserable, more so than I am..., no, _was_, now. Knowing what he did, knowing I could have been in loveless marriage kills me. But at the same time, it makes me feel better knowing that I still have a chance at the real thing."

"It in no way makes it easier," she said, "but there's...certain factors that make it bearable."

The two fell into a comfortable silence and finally twenty-five minutes later, Gabriella had declared that she had selected the shade for the room.

"Are you sure Troy will approve of that?" Chad asked as they waited for the paint to be mixed.

Gabriella elbowed him. "He told me I could pick pink if I wanted, too, and he'd be fine with it."

Chad grinned to himself and she looked at him strangely. He was smiling as if he had a secret, one that she should know, too. When she raised an eyebrow, he simply shrugged.

"Knowing Troy, I don't doubt that."

---

What seemed like hours later, Gabriella and Chad stumbled into the front door.

"Chad! Be careful with that!" Gabriella snapped as Chad dropped a few bags and a can of paint by the door with a thud.

He rolled his eyes unceremoniously and she was surprised by his immature response. "Really, Gabi, it's not like any of it is going to break so you can just relax."

She placed her hands on her hips, not impressed with his attitude. "Okay, I understand that you're upset that I took charge of the radio in the car, but it's really not that big of a deal."

Chad glared. "You don't mess with a man's radio, Gabriella. You don't mess with a man's car period."

"You wanted to listen to rap," she said, glaring back. "I had to do something!" 

"You didn't mess with his car, did you, Gabriella?" a voice said and she glanced up at the stairs to see Jeff walking down them. He smiled. "Welcome home!"

She waved, still slightly aggravated at Chad's behavior. "Hi. Everything still normal while we were gone?"

Jeff nodded. "Gabi, can you make me something to eat?" He said, patting his pot-belly stomach. "One of those diet meal things?" 

Chad let out a sigh and rubbed his temples. "Why can't you just make it yourself?"

"Because!" Jeff yelled hotly, "I am on a diet and Gabriella is my nutritionist and I have to lose ten pounds in order to get Annabel to notice me!"

"Annabel isn't going to notice you if you are acting like a sissy and making Gabriella behave like your mother!" Chad said. With this, he dramatically threw his hands up before stomping up the stairs, muttering something about children who couldn't cook or respect others radio station preferences.

Ignoring Chad's dramatics, Gabriella sighed and smiled weakly at Jeff. The man was in a constant quest to lose the ten pounds that sat on top of lanky frame, making him pudgy in the smallest way possible. He had somehow decided that this amount of weight caused him to never be able to cement a date with the red-head he worked with.

Of course the fact that he had never actually spoken about anything other than work to her hadn't really been taken into consideration.

"Did you do what I said?" Gabriella asked sweetly, taking the cans of paint into the kitchen as Jeff followed. "Did you try talking to her about your common interests?" Jeff had mentioned that Annabel was an avid film goer and considering he himself owned over three-hundred DVDs, he could equate himself as one, too. She had kindly suggested that maybe he bring his up the next time they worked the same shift at the ink cartridge kiosk. 

"No!" Jeff yelped, covering his face. "You don't get it, Gabi, I really, really can't! She's really, really into film; she majors in it! She's getting her masters in it! Anything I say or attempt to say will just come off as stupid."

"Hey," Gabriella said softly, placing her hand on his shoulder. "You have nothing to lose, only things to gain." She thought back briefly to a couple of hours previously, when she had asked Troy to let her help with the renovations and vaguely wondered if the situations were at all similar.

"I guess you're right," Jeff said glumly, and Gabriella wrapped an arm around his shoulders, leading him over to the table.

"You sit down and I'll make you a late lunch, okay? Are Troy and Jason home?" she asked, walking over to the fridge and opening it. "I can make them something, too. I'd ask Chad, but he'll probably accuse me of poisoning it."

Jeff laid his head down on the table. "Troy's up in his studio and Jason is out drinking."

Gabriella stilled her movements, poking her head out of the fridge to stare at him. "It's only a little after noon," she said, glancing at the clock.

"See, that's what I said," Jeff mumbled, still clearly feeling sorry for himself, "but Jason said that somewhere in the world, it wasn't noon and it was perfectly acceptable for him to start the weekend early. And then he put on that hat he has with the Viking Horns and his aviators and he left. I expect him to come home in a few hours with a police escort."

Gabriella considered this. "You know, there's a good chance of that happening." She pulled out the ingredients for a simple sandwich and turned to him. "So I know this isn't a diet food, but I figure you could use a treat since you seem so glum. How does a grilled cheese and tomato sandwich sound?"

Jason didn't say anything, obviously weighing the pros and cons of this. "If I exercise later, it won't count, right?" 

Gabriella laughed. "No. We can go for a walk later to make up for it, okay?" At his nod, she set the cheese and tomatoes on the counter before turning to go upstairs. "I'm going to go make sure Troy doesn't want anything. I want to tell him what colour paint I got, too."

Not waiting for Jeff to respond, she carried herself up the stairs two by two, feeling a spring in her step that had not been present even as early as yesterday. When she arrived at Troy's door, she knocked before opening it and calling into the room.

"Troy, did you want—" Gabriella's hand flew to her mouth, stunned by the sight in front of her. It most certainly was not one she was expecting.

Inside Troy's studio, sitting on soft, brightly coloured throw cushions were fourteen kids, all with different kinds of old Polaroid cameras in their laps. Standing by the front of the room was Troy, who stopped speaking mid-sentence and was looking at her curiously.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" she said quickly, feeling fifteen pairs of eyes settle firmly on her. "I forgot." In truth, she hadn't. She had missed seeing the fourteen kids trek in and out of the house last weekend, as The notion of Troy teaching these children something he was so passionate about hadn't escaped her at all, but rather lingered on her every thought of him. It was interesting, to say the least, that this stuck out the most to her at all, and when she really thought about it, it was even more interesting that she gave him so much thought at all.

She slowly began to step out the door. "I'll talk to you later," she said in a stage whisper, but Troy shook his head.

"No, no!" He said, smiling, "We're taking a bit of a break before we wrap, and I needed to talk to you anyways." He turned to his class, clapping his hands together. "You guys take this opportunity to take your one practice shot with the polaroids while I talk to Gabriella, here, okay? Remember you only get one and it has to be of something or someone in this room."

Fourteen children voiced their agreement before scampering around the room, debating on which aspect of the studio to photograph. Gabriella looked on in amazement at the small group, so eager and excited. She was impressed with the way Troy had commanded them and found herself once again evaluating why she hadn't thought to grow close to him sooner.

"Wow," she breathed as he stepped over to her. She watched as a little girl propped the pink bunny she was carrying along with her on Troy's desk chair and carefully positioned her camera. "This is...adorable," she grinned and pointed to the girl. "That's Abigail, isn't it?"

Troy nodded, folding his arms over his chest. "Yep, that'd be her. That's Mr. Snuggles. They go together like peanut butter and jelly. He also happens to be her favourite model."

Gabriella giggled, still completely enraptured by the kids around her. "What are they doing anyways?"

"I scored a really good deal on a bunch of old polaroid cameras on Ebay a couple weeks ago," Troy explained, "and I bought cases of the film after they stopped manufacturing it, so I figured the kids could use a lesson in good old fashioned instant photography. An alternative to the digital camera."

Gabriella smiled as she heard the familiar click and whir of the camera shooting out a picture. "I used to have one as a kid. I'd only use it on special occasions, but my favourite part was shaking the photo. I loved watching it change."

Troy nodded, grinning. "It's a fun activity. It comes with an assignment, though. The film comes in packages of ten, so they have to take nine pictures of things they like. Things that are important to them. Then, next week they have to pick one that shows what's most important to them and explain why."

"Wow," Gabriella said, surprised that he had created something similar to lesson plans for the classes. "That's pretty extensive."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "It helps them to try and find some meaning behind what they're talking pictures of. That way it doesn't just become vapid like so much out there is today." He turned to look at her, furrowing his eyebrows. "What did you need to talk to me about?"

"Oh!" Gabriella said, recalling her earlier reasons for coming in the room at all. "I wanted to know if you wanted something to eat, but I think that will have to wait."

He nodded. "Was that all?"

She shook her head. "I picked out the paint. It's a pale green. Is that okay?"

Troy chuckled under his breath and ducked his head, amused at her lingering hesitation. "I told you to pick whatever you wanted. You could have just told me you picked neon orange and I would have been all for it."

"Oh, shoot, that was my next choice."

"Hey, Troy?" a little girl appeared at his side, pulling on his pant leg. He looked down at her before crouching so they were at eye level. She was very tiny, no older than eight, but looking as if she was six. She had blonde hair and big blue eyes.

"Yes, Mckaila?" Troy asked, smiling at her and she smiled back timidly.

"Can I take a picture of you and," she looked up at Gabriella through her light eyelashes, "And of her?"

Troy blinked, taken aback by the request. "You only have one practice shot, Mckaila," he said, warning her that she had to be careful not to use all of her film.

"I know," she said, twisting her fingers together. "But I want to use it on you and...and her! I don't like anything else in here and she's pretty!"

At this, Gabriella bent down. "Hi, there, Mckaila," she said, reaching her hand out to the small girl. "My name's Gabriella."

The girl looked up into her eyes, before bowing her head and blushing. "Hi," she said shyly, shaking Gabriella's hand hello.

"I for one, would love a talented photographer like you to take our picture," Gabriella said, standing up, "And I'm positive that Troy would, too." 

A smile growing on his lips, Troy stood, his eyes never leaving Gabriella's. "I'd be honored, Mckaila."

The little girl beamed happily before stepping backwards to get them both in the frame and bringing the large camera up to her eye. Gabriella stepped closer to Troy to try and make it easier for Mckaila and on instinct, reached her hand around to wrap around his waist.

She felt a flutter run through her then, rushing through her toes to her hair. The feel of his warmth was stunning and she felt herself grip his shirt slightly to remain standing. She felt him stiffen slightly, his head darting to the side to glance at her before relaxing.

However, a moment later when he wrapped his own arm around her waist, she felt every nerve on her body tingle and found that she didn't want him to let her go.

Even more so, she wasn't afraid or repulsed by the idea.

---

Thank you all for your constant support and encouragement! It is always very appreciated!

I want to write more on how appreciated it is, but I fear I may pass out from exhaustion. That's what I get for not sleeping.

Don't forget this chapter's track! It's from a band I just found today and fell head over heels for.


	8. The One Who Cared

---

**Mamihlapinatapei**

Yaghan, noun: a look shared between two people with each wishing the other will initiate something that which both desire, but neither wants to start.

---

The blonde woman was sitting on edge of Troy's bed, crying profusely. Her head was in her hands and she was visibly shaking.

Gabriella stopped, completely startled by the woman's appearance. Who was she? What was she doing here, in Troy's room, no less.

"_Um, hello?_" Gabriella asked as she stepped into the room carefully, closing the door behind her. "_Are you okay_?" she asked tentatively, standing awkwardly at the other side of the room.

The woman looked up, mascara trailing down her face. She wiped her eyes quickly, the bright pink colour on her nails distracting Gabriella slightly. "_Who are you_?" she asked.

"_I'm...I'm Gabriella_," she said softly, playing with the hem of her shirt. "_What's wrong_?"

The woman brought her knees up to her chest and pressed her forehead against them. "_He hasn't called_," she sobbed. "_It's been months. Why hasn't he called?_"

Who hadn't called? Gabriella thought to herself. Troy? "_Who are you talking about?_"

Lifting her head from her knees, the woman continued to sob. "_I thought that he loved me. What did I do wrong? Why am I here all alone? Why hasn't he come to see me? Why hasn't he called?_"

"_Who,_" Gabriella said again, stepping further into the room, "_Are you talking about_?"

Gripping her hair, the woman sobbed harder and Gabriella was at a loss at what to do next. Thankfully, the handle of the door turned and Troy stepped in. She let out a sigh of relief.

"_Troy, who is this woman and why is she in your room_?" Gabriella asked persistently and she saw Troy frown.

"_Why are you wearing his hat_?" the blonde sobbed, choking from her tears. "_You should give it back._"

Gabriella reached up and found Troy's hat on her head once more. She rolled her eyes. Why was she always wearing this stupid beanie?

"_No_," Troy said, stepping forward and coming to sit next to the woman on the bed. "_The hat's her's. She has my hat._"

Well, then, Gabriella thought, that explains why I'm wearing it then. "_Troy, who is she_?"

"_Shh_," Troy said, laying an arm around the woman's shoulders. "_It's okay, Sharpay._"

With that, Gabriella's eyes snapped open. She sat up in Troy's bed quickly, feeling light headed and confused. What the hell kind of dream had that been? Why had she just dreamt of Sharpay? And more importantly, why was she always wearing Troy's hats in her dreams lately?

She rolled over and glanced at the clock. It was a little after seven in the morning and if she wanted, she could always get a little bit more sleep. But what was the point, really? She'd just feel groggy afterwards and she was up now anyways. With these thoughts, she flung her legs over the side of the bed and went to make way downstairs.

The kitchen was quiet at this time of day usually, but entering the room she saw that it was already occupied. Troy was sitting at the table, dressed in a pair of old jeans and a white t-shirt; a bowl of fruit loops and a cup of coffee on the table. He looked up when she answered.

"Hey," he said softly. "Good morning. You're up early."

She nodded. "Good morning" she said, walking over to the coffeepot and pouring her own mug. "I had the strangest dream."

As she sat down opposite him, Troy brought a spoonful of cereal to his mouth. "Wanna talk about it?"

She shook her head. "Not really. It wasn't...scary or anything. It was just plain weird," she sighed, running a hand through her knotted hair. "I think I just have a lot of thoughts floating around in my subconscious. What about you, why are you up so early?"

Troy took a sip of his coffee. "I'm a morning person when I want to be," he said and she raised and eyebrow. "And Jason came home about an hour ago, drunk off his ass and collapsed on top of me in the living room. So I gave him the couch and decided to just get up."

"Oh," Gabriella said, standing up to take a peak into the living room. Sure enough, Jason was flopped across the couch, his viking helmet askew on his head.

Troy rubbed his hand over his eyes. "Yeah," he said slowly, "but at least this will give me time to set up everything for later."

She smiled excitedly. They were painting Edward's old room today and she had been looking forward to it for a while now. She smiled, amused at how the most exciting thing in her life had quickly come to be painting the room of her ex-fiancee with a man she used to hate.

"What time did you want to get started?" she asked and he shrugged in response, swirling his spoon around his bowl.

"Whenever you're ready, doesn't matter to me. Though," he glanced at the clock, "It might be best to wait till everyone else is up and ready, too."

She nodded. "That seems like a good idea. Are you sure you're okay with the colour, though?"

Troy sighed, almost aggravated. "Gabriella, for the millionth time, I told you it was okay."

"I just want to make sure!" she said stubbornly. "You all are the ones that are going to live with it and I don't want you to one day walk by the room and go, oh, damn that Gabriella."

Troy laughed. "That's not going to happen, so you can relax."

"Well, you never know," she said, folding her arms over her chest. "I could be considered the girl that cursed your house."

"You're kind of dramatic, you know that?" Troy asked, his eyes twinkling and Gabriella narrowed her eyes ever so slightly.

"Only when the situation calls for it," she insisted and he rolled his eyes.

"Look," Troy said rationally, "Chances are that's just going to be a guest room once you're gone. We rarely have guests, so it's just going to end up being a storage room. No one is going to care what colour the storage room is."

Gabriella blinked. "Then why did I spend so much time picking out a colour if no one cares?"

To this, Troy rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Oh, because you know, none of us can select colours properly. Besides, we're doing this together. You should get some say, too."

"I got all the say," she said, feeling confused.

He shrugged. "Well, you're a girl, you like that kind of thing." He ran a hand through his hair. "Besides, now this way everytime I pass the room, I'll think of you. Isn't that nice of me?"

She laughed. "If that's the only way you'll remember me, then sure." She took a sip of her coffee. "It's no fun being forgotten." She paused at the implications of her words.

It was as if Edward's spirit settled in then, sitting on the chair at the head of the table, observing their conversation. They both felt it. They hadn't forgotten him, really, in fact he sat on the edge of every one their thoughts and words. Yet he was being packed away, set to be brought out for a rainy day. He had hurt them. Forgetting was easier than remembering.

"Anyways," Troy said quickly, "The colour is great. So you really don't need to—" His eyes darted away from her and he groaned. "Oh great."

She glanced behind her and saw Jason stumble into the kitchen. "Hey man, I made out with three blonde chicks last night and one of them was named Cindy. How rad was that?" He collapsed in the chair and Troy let his head fall against the table, frustrated.

"Hi, Gabriella," Jason slurred. "You're really pretty. Will you make out with me?"

Jason reeked of alcohol and Gabriella backed away as Troy's head snapped up from it's spot. He swiftly kicked Jason under the table and the man yelped in pain.

"What the fuck, Troy?" Jason whined, his eyes filling with tears. He was still so drunk. "She's hot! I figured I'd just ask!"

"Shut up, man! Don't talk about her like that!" Troy hissed, his eyebrows setting in an angry line as he turned back to his breakfast. "You're drunk, you idiot."

"I just had a little!" Jason insisted and Gabriella smiled tiredly.

"You took all of Mexico's Tequila," she quipped and Jason roared with laughter.

"See, Troy!" he said, his helmet falling over his eyes. "She's hot and funny! I had to—OW. What. The. Fuck?!"

Troy shoved a mouthful of cereal into his mouth, chewing angrily. Gabriella, however, merely rolled her eyes and went to get another cup of coffee. This time for Jason, who obviously needed sobering up.

---

"So, Chad is, at this point, desperate to get drunk, no matter what the cost," Troy said, making neat, even strokes of pale green on the wall. Gabriella stood next to him, doing the same, though her streaks were no where near as precise.

"How desperate?" she giggled, her lips twitching in amusement.

Troy grinned at the memory. "Really, really desperate. I mean, it was Friday night and we had nothing better to do, but we were in the middle of no where cause Jason got us freaking lost. We don't know if there's a bar or a club or a liquor store for miles, so you know what we did?"

She stared at him, waiting for the answer. "What did you do?"

"We pulled over at a Applebees and drank overpriced Heinekens until they kicked us out," he said dryly and Gabriella burst into a fit of laughter.

"You're kidding me!" she exclaimed, running the roller into the tray of paint. "You went to a restaurant just to get drunk? Do they even have a bar there?"

Troy shook his head, still grinning. "Yes and yes, they do, but they expect you to drink there. Not in the dining area. The waitresses were not happy. After Chad tried to order his fifth, they threatened to call the police if we didn't leave."

"I don't blame them," Gabriella said, streaking the wall with paint. "I worked as a waitress through college and obnoxious customers were the worst. Especially when they were drunk," she stepped back to inspect her work. "Did you guys at least order anything besides beer?"

Troy bit his lip. "Jeff might have ordered a round of wings, but I can't be sure," he laughed, "It's all kind of blurry."

Troy and Gabriella had been painting the room for the last few hours and they were exchanging stories, memories about things like college life and their childhoods. Silly anecdotes that shouldn't have mattered, but did. Gabriella now knew that Troy had studied photography at the University of Albuquerque, was an only child and broke his wrist falling out of his treehouse when he and Chad had been playing ninjas at the age of nine. She knew that he had gotten sent to the principal's office after he had punched Edward in the eye in eighth grade for holding hands with Troy's crush and that he had cried in the first grade when Jason ripped up his drawing.

At the same time, he learned that Gabriella had studied at Stanford, had her first kiss with a boy named Greg at a birthday party when she was thirteen and wrote her first short story when she was in kindergarten. He learned that she had hated all of her roommates throughout college and had once won a karaoke competition at a local bar.

Every story, every part of them they shared took them once step away from who they used to be to each other and propelled them in a new direction. And frankly, both were more than thankful for it.

The walls had been primed earlier in the morning and they were now applying the first coat. Much to Gabriella's relief, Troy really had seemed fine with the colour and they were working on completing the second wall. Plastic tarps lined the floor as well as old sheets and paint trays. A mix CD of Troy's was spinning in the old boombox he had pulled out and Gabriella was thoroughly enjoying herself. She loved projects after all, but she loved them more when they were shared.

"Why have I never heard these stories before?" Gabriella asked quietly. "Eddie never told me any of them."

Troy stopped his movements and turned to her, surprised. "Really? None of them?"

She nodded. "He didn't discuss you guys often," she replied, lifting the roller to move onto the spot next to it. "You guys were kind of a taboo."

He raised his eyebrows, setting the brush. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she gave a sigh. "I didn't exactly want it to be and in the early days, I tried on more than one occasion to bring you all up. But you know Edward, avoid conflict and real discussions at any cost."

Troy scoffed. "Yeah, well, that was Ed for you." He glanced at her, then back at the wall. "Did it have anything to do with me, though?"

She bit her lip before nodding. "I'm not going to lie to you, it did. In the beginning it was as if he thought just saying your name would make me angry, which, honestly, never did." She smiled at him. "Only you could make me angry."

Troy smirked. "Well, someone had to keep you in line."

She rolled her eyes and bumped her hip with his. "I'm glad we can joke about this now," she said, rolling the brush over the wall.

"Yeah, me too," he cocked an eyebrow. "In the beginning he didn't talk about us because he was afraid you were going to get mad," he clarified and she nodded. "But what about after that? Was it still because of me or was there more there?"

"Well," she swallowed. "I don't know, maybe you can answer that for me." She took a deep breath, gripping the roller in her hands. "After you and Edward got in...in that fight a year and a half ago, things just shifted. You were never mentioned, the guys were never mentioned. It hadn't just become a taboo, it was forbidden unless we were in direct company with you guys."

"Oh," Troy said, stilling his movements once more and looking at the ground. "I see."

"So my question for you is," she paused, "What did you and Eddie fight about that caused such a stir between you?"

Troy ran a hand through his hair, smudging a little paint in the strands. "I don't know. Stuff."

"Troy," she said, narrowing her eyes. "I know you know. And I know, whatever it was, was serious. Was it about," she swallowed, "Was it about Sharpay?"

He sighed. "Not exactly," he looked up at her, his eyes darting across her features before landing on her own. "You know, Gabriella, I really don't want to talk about this. It was in the past and I say, let bygones be bygones, you know?" he chuckled nervously. "No need to trudge up the past."

She nodded in acceptance. "I can respect that," she said, turning back to the wall. "Besides, it's none of my business, really."

The two fell into a comfortable silence as the music from the radio crooned on behind them. It was Troy who broke it a moment later.

"So while we work," he said, his voice more upbeat than it had been earlier, "Why don't we play a game so we don't bore ourselves while actually watching this dry."

She laughed. "Well, what kind of game," she glanced around the room, "We can't exactly play I Spy or anything. I mean, everything is just green right now."

He grinned. "Let's play 'Truth'."

"Truth?" she asked skeptically. "What's that?"

"Like truth or dare, minus the dare," he dipped the brush back into the paint before returning to the wall. "It'll help us to know each other better."

She could help but giggle and he shot her a look. "I'm sorry," she said, "but what are we, eighteen?"

Troy rolled his eyes. "I wish. I had the time of my life when I was eighteen."

Gabriella raised her eyebrows. "Oh, really?"

He nodded. "Hell yeah. I was captain of the basketball team that my dad coached. I got away with murder. I was set to go to University of Albuquerque with Chad, Ed and Jase and I had a line-up of pretty girls begging for my phone number. I was on top of the world."

"You were an asshole, weren't you?" she asked, placing a hand on her hip and he laughed.

"The biggest," he said with a chuckle. "I grew up fast, though. University is a make or break kind of thing and for the first time in my life, I didn't want to mess up. So I didn't. Changed my major from sports therapy to photography first year, though. That," he paused, "that didn't go over so well with the parents."

"Really?" she asked, surprised. She had always been under the impression that Troy had been doing exactly what his parents had expected of him and that's what made him so arrogant, because he was miserable. Of course, this had been her assumption before she had gotten to know him, before the passion he had for art and photography had really been displayed for her.

"Yeah," he said, "I was a jock and suddenly, now I was an art major? I can still remember my dad saying that I was going to get next to no work. And he's right, most of the time, I don't. But I love it and that's what makes it worthwhile."

She smiled. "I'm glad that your happy."

Taken slightly aback by how earnest and sincere her statement seemed, Troy cleared his throat. "Let's get this game started," he said with a smile. "Why don't you do the honors of question number one? After all, ladies first."

Rolling the paint over the wall, she tried to think of a decent one, but the smell of the paint coupled with Troy's eyes on her made it hard to think. "Um, okay," she pressed a finger to her chin. "What's your favourite colour?"

"Oh!" Troy hissed, frowning. "What a terrible first question. I can't believe you just asked me that. That's so not how it's done."

Gabriella glared at him. "Just answer the damn question."

"Red," he responded, stepping closer to her, reaching over her to paint. "You missed this spot."

"It's not my fault I'm short," she pouted, marveling at the way his muscles in his arms flexed. She looked away instantly. "Okay, it's your turn."

"Why did you hate me so much?"

Gabriella stopped painting, feeling put on the spot. She turned to Troy slowly, who was looking at her pointedly, before he glanced away.

"Sorry," he said hastily, "You don't have to answer that."

"It was because you were the only one to stand up to me," she answered suddenly and he looked at her stunned. She took a deep breath before continuing.

"It's not a good reason, I know," she slowly began painting the wall again, "but it's the only one I've got. I grew up and I was just as popular as you were in high school. I was smart, I was successful and I wasn't used to having people tell me I was wrong." She looked up at him. "Do you remember what we discussed at the wedding?"

He shrugged. "Vaguely." It was a lie. He remembered every detail of that night.

"We were discussing religious subtext and symbolism in 'The Grapes of Wrath'," she said slowly. "I was going on about how Jim Casy was the Christ figure of the book and, if I recall correctly, using examples and hand gestures."

"Oh, did you?" Troy said with a smirk. She had. She had made several biblical references and her hands were fluttering about her face the entire time she spoke.

"Yep. And do you know what you said?" When he shook his head, she continued. "You said that the symbolism was only there if you knew what to look for, and therefore, didn't really exist."

Troy blinked. "So? It's true."

"I know it's true," she said with a sigh, "but I had written a whole paper on that. I thought I was an expert. And here you were, this stranger, challenging me. I was so embarrassed when I had nothing to counter with. It had never happened to me in my entire life. What did you know? Who were you to question me? That's how I felt."

"So, I was rude to you, and you were a jerk in return. I don't blame you. Everytime I did something out of line, everytime I rude or sarcastic, you were, too. This gave me more a reason to dislike you. You were rude to me now, why should I like you, especially since you challenged me."

She paused then and he felt the air crackle between them. "Do you remember when you said I was a snooty bitch who thought she was better than everyone else?"

Troy nodded, wincing. "Why?"

"You were right, in your case especially," she admitted. "And that's what made it even worse. You were always better than me, stronger and more astute and I hated it. You could even say I was jealous. It was petty and by the end, I hated you so much for reasons I couldn't even remember. I didn't even know you, and I didn't like you. If that doesn't make me a bad person, I don't know what does."

"Gabriella," Troy said slowly, "That doesn't make you a bad person. It makes you human. We've all judged someone wrongly in the past. And it was just me and we agreed to start over."

"Why did you?" she asked suddenly. "This is my second question. Why did you decide to give me a second chance? Decide to start over?"

He didn't say anything for a moment, rolling the brush over the same spot several times. "Because that wedding had the opposite affect on me," he said softly. "I loved that you could hold your own in an argument and since that day, I've always wanted to get to know you better."

He chuckled humorously. "To me it was so unfair that someone like Edward got to see that side of you, got to see and have all of you when he didn't even deserve it. So, when you offered to start over, I was getting my chance. Maybe not to see all of you, but at least get a little bit." He smiled. "And I am forever glad that I did."

She smiled a crooked smile, feeling her heart beat rapidly. "It's your turn, by the way."

He stared into her eyes before opening his mouth to speak. "What's your favourite colour?"

Gabriella's mouth dropped open and she gasped. "You little rat!" she shouted as he laughed. "I can't believe you just asked that!"

"No?" he said with a laugh. "Well you had better believe it."

"Oh yeah?" Gabriella said, dropping her roller into the tray and grabbing the paintbrush that was resting on it's side. "Well, then you had better believe this."

With a flick of her wrist, she shook the brush in his direction, sending a stream of green paint to splash across his shirt. He looked down and gaped and she clasped a hand to her mouth.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "I am so sorry! I don't even know where that came from!" She really didn't either, she was just acting on impulse, something to break the tension. Why had she thought this was the best way to do so?

"Oh," he said, drenching his roller in paint, "Oh ho, it's on, Gabriella." With that, he came bounding in her direction, flinging paint at her.

"Oh my god!" she yelped as paint splattered in her hair. "It's in my hair!"

"And on your back," Troy said cheekily, running the roller over the ridges of her shoulder blades. "Oops."

"I can't believe you!" she yelled, laughing. She swiped the paint brush in his own hair. "Here, let me give you some highlights!"

The room filled with laughter and shrieking as they ran across the room, paint flying everywhere. After mere minutes, Gabriella and Troy had paint caked in their hair and on their skin. Gabriella squirmed as she tried to escape while he attempted to paint her arm green.

"Go away you monster!" she laughed, pushing at his chest. He had his arms wrapped around her back, caging her in as he streaked her left wrist with paint. "Troy, I mean it!" she said, twisting to get away. Suddenly, she felt herself slip on the plastic tarp they had laid down and she winced, waiting for the impact of her body against the ground.

Thump!

"Ow," Gabriella moaned, wiggling on the ground. When she attempted to get up, she realized that she was pinned to the floor by a heavy weight.

Troy.

He was on top of her, his chest pressed to hers and their legs intertwined. His face was mere centimetres away from hers and she swallowed hard.

He was too close. Far, far too close.

Suddenly, he was looking her straight in the eye. He licked his lips and her heart pounded, completely afraid of what was going to happen next, but filled with anticipation.

"Don't move," he whispered suddenly, before jumping up and off of her. She furrowed her brows and shifted to move, but he pressed his foot down on her ankle gently, making her freeze. "I said don't move!"

With that, he ran out of the room hurriedly, and Gabriella was left wondering what the heck it was that he was doing. A moment later, he re-emerged into the room, his polaroid camera in his hand. He stepped over to where she was and hovered over top of her. Then, before she could protest, he lifted the camera to his eye and took a picture, the snap and click happening simultaneously and the photograph dispensed itself a second later. He shook it anxiously, wanting it to develop faster. She stared up at him.

"What the hell was that, Troy Bolton?" she asked. She wasn't angry, but she was flustered and confused. Oh, these artist types.

He shrugged almost nonchalantly, but the dark flush on his cheeks and the way he was now looking anywhere but his face gave away his discomfort. He smiled at her almost nervously.

"I just took a picture of you," he said, still waving the photo in the air, the image becoming clearer."

"Yeah, I get that," she said, still lying flat on her back and staring up at him. "But why?"

Troy extended a hand to her to help her up and she accepted it, feeling a shocking warmth flutter through her body at his touch. Once she was on her feet, she let go, feeling jolted by the situation. She glanced at his face and was slightly unsettled to see that his expression had shifted. Had he felt it, too? She brushed off herself and stared at him pointedly, still waiting for an answer.

"I'm a photographer," he said casually. "I'm always looking to capture that perfect moment."

"And one where I've got green paint in my hair and on my face, which is all flushed from running is a perfect moment?" she asked, folding her arms.

He nodded, smiling softly at he picture in his hand that had now developed. His eyes looked up to meet hers and he held it up for her to see. "It was more than perfect, Gabriella."

Averting her eyes from his, her gaze flickered down to the small, square polaroid in held between his fingers. Sure enough, there were splatters of paint across her cheeks, hair and clothes. Her curls fanned out behind her on the hardwood floor and her wrists and hands rested by either side of her head, still in position from when Troy had pinned her, a paint brush clutched in one. It should have been an awkward photograph, one displaying little emotion and meaning behind it, but gazing deeper, she saw that everything she had felt with Troy that day was conveyed.

Her face was indeed flushed, but it wasn't unflattering. It was a soft pink blush, spilling only across her cheeks. Her eyes were smiling on their own accord, mirth and happiness dancing in them. Even the corners of her lips were turned up in a small smile and she found herself wondering when she had smiled at all when he had flashed the camera in front of her. Her stomach lurched when she realized it was probably just because she had seen him, had just been in his presence.

Turning the picture around, Troy tucked it in his back pocket before smiling shyly. She blinked, her eyes fixed back on his and he ran a hand through his floppy hair, which was streaked with green. She took a deep breath.

"Um, well, I don't..." she began and he cut her off, holding up a hand.

"In that moment, Gabriella," he said thickly, "You were gorgeous. Stunning." The smile had slipped from his lips and a serious tone had set in. "You can't let moments like that, beauty like...like that, just pass you by."

She nodded, feeling her legs go numb. What was she to say? What was she to do? His statement was so bold, his words so heavy. So she did the first thing she could think of, the only thing that seemed right in the moment.

Stepping closer to him, so close so that very little distance remained between them at all, she raised the hand still holding the paintbrush and drew a long streak down his forehead, over his nose and down his lips. He gasped and sputtered, careful not to let any paint get in his mouth as she pranced away, grabbing the camera he had set down on the floor and lifting it to her eye.

"Smile!" she said cheerfully as he gaped at her. Grabbing the photo as it popped out, she shook it in the air as he tried to regain his composure.

"What the hell, Gabriella?" he all but shouted and she grinned brightly.

"You look good in green, Bolton," she said cheekily. "You can't let moments like that pass you by."

With that, he threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, now you're in for it." With that, he lunged himself at her and she squealed as he made his way over to her in three quick strides. He enlaced his hands around her waist and swung her around as she kicked and struggled to be let lose, all the while drawing lines up and down his arms and hands.

When she finally broke free (or rather, he let her go), they continued their game of cat and mouse, slipping and sliding on the plastic sheets, laughing loudly like children as the music filled the room. Gabriella clutched her sides, ducking as Troy attempted to wedge the brush down the back of her shirt. She had not felt this good in weeks, months, years even. She felt so free, so careless, so...so happy. As she squirmed, working the paint brush out of her shirt, she laughed again and glanced at Troy, who was roaring with laughter himself, his eyes closed and she felt an inexplicable sense of calm fall over her when she realized that this happiness was all thanks to him.

This in itself, made her smile grow even wider.

---

"Honestly, Jeff, if you run that distance three times a week, it'll get easier," Gabriella explained the next morning as she and Jeff walked into the kitchen after their run. "You just alternate thirty seconds of running and ninety seconds of walking. It's how you build up your stamina."

"I don't have any stamina," Jeff said, panting. "I don't like physical activity unless it's virtually simulated on my television screen."

Gabriella rolled her eyes. "Jeff, that weight you complain about is from what you're eating and all the beer you drink. The rest of your body is a stick. If you exercise regularly, you'll be able to work it off in no time."

Jeff nodded slowly, depositing bottles of water from the fridge. He tossed one to Gabriella before twisting the cap on his own open. "And if I lose the weight, then maybe Annabel will go out with me."

Again, Gabriella sighed, talking a sip of her water. She walked over to Jeff and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Jeff, you know if she doesn't like you for exactly who you are, she's not worth it, right?"

Jeff bit his lip. "But she is worth it, Gabriella," he said quietly. "She's the most beautiful girl in the world and she's so smart and so funny. She wears the same sunglasses that Elvis used to wear."

Gabriella set her water down. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You know," he said, fiddling with the cap of his water. "The gold ones with the pink lenses? She wears those. Sometimes indoors. I'm in love with this girl, Gabs."

She smiled softly, patting him on the head. It was interesting, seeing someone so lovesick. She wondered very briefly if Edward had ever acted this way about her. If he had ever lamented over his affections for her to any of his friends. Considering he didn't discuss his friends with her, there was very little chance he would have discussed her with them. A stronger part of her wondered more than briefly if he had ever really felt that way about her, and if he had, had it been real? Had it lasted for a long time before Sharpay came around?

Her thoughts drifted and instead she found herself wondering if Troy had ever acted this way about anyone. If he had ever been in his lovesick state that Jeff was in. He had said to her almost two months ago that she wasn't the only one to suffer a broken heart. Though he hadn't specified, she had figured the words were in relation to him. She bit her lips as she considered who would be awful enough to break the heart of such a sweet man. Sure, she had been plenty mean to him in the past, but it wasn't the same. She didn't and she wouldn't break his heart, even if she was capable.

Shaking her head, she smiled at Jeff, whom she realized was still talking before dismissing herself to go shower. It was a little after eleven in the morning and fourteen pairs of children's sandals and sneakers lined the front door. As she ascended the stairs, she heard voices coming from Troy's studio at the end of the hall and smiled upon realizing that his photography class was in session.

She glanced down the hall and saw that the door was ajar just slightly. Biting her lip, she walked closer, deciding that listening in on the class couldn't hurt, as long as she didn't make her presence known, after all. There was something about Troy teaching this group of eager children that just made her heart flutter and a smile split across her face. And after seeing them last week and how he interacted with them, how could she resist?

Leaning against the wall by the door, she crept closer to get a good listen.

"Now," she heard Troy's voice say, "Did everyone pick the picture of the thing that was most important to them?" A chorus of yeses, yeahs and uh-uhs filled the room, one child shouting no, causing the others to laugh.

"Very funny, Jesse," Troy said and she could hear the chuckle in his voice, practically see the smile on his face. Moving carefully, she peaked through the crack in the door and looked in.

Troy was standing at the front, dressed in his usual uniform of a t-shirt and jeans, but his beanie was absent from his head, his hair looking shiny and soft, falling into his eyes. She bit her lip at the smile he was sending to the kids as he talked.

"You're all going to come up here in a moment and show your photo, explaining why it's important," he explained and the kids nodded. Abigail raised her hand.

"Did you take a picture of something important, too, Troy?" she asked and he nodded, brandishing a photo from his back pocket.

"I did indeed, Abby," he said with a smile. "How about I show you guys it and then explain why it's important, and then one of you can start, okay?" The kids nodded their heads excitedly, always happy to see Troy's work, but more than that happy that none of them had to be officially first.

Slowly he turned the photo and Gabriella felt her heart stop beating. Turning away from the door, she leaned against the wall again, her hand to her chest.

It was the photo of her. The one he had taken the day before.

She tried to control her breathing as she strained to listen to what his explanation was. She heard a few giggles from the students, no doubt at her appearance in the photo before he finally went on to speak.

"This," he said softly, "is my friend Gabriella. Some of you might recognize her from when she stopped by the class last week."

"I remember her!" a small voice piped up, "I took a picture of you two!" Mckaila, Gabriella thought to herself.

"That's right," Troy said with a laugh. "Now, this is the part where you'll explain why the subject of your photo is important to you, okay guys?" She assumed they nodded, but Gabriella didn't dare look back into the studio, far too taken aback. She should leave, she thought, but at the same time, she knew she'd die if she never knew.

"Gabriella is important to me," Troy said quietly. "She's very important to me for many reasons. She was a big part of my old friend Ed's life for a long time, so she wasn't really a big part of mine. She came to live with us a month and a half ago and in that time, I've gotten to know her pretty well and care about her very much."

"Gabriella is a wonderful girl," he said, his voice laced with affection, "And I'm very lucky to know her. She's very funny, very smart and an excellent cook."

"And she's beautiful!" Mckaila piped up and Troy laughed.

"Yes, she's very beautiful," he admitted, "but she's important because she was kind enough to give me a second chance. Gabriella," he let out a breath, "is important because she makes me want to be better. Not just better at what I do, but a better person. It's important that all of us have someone in our lives who make us want to be better people, and that person for me, is Gabriella."

Gabriella's hand flew her to her mouth at his words, her heart pounding in her chest. She was important to him. He cared about her. She made him want to be better.

With this new information in her head, the words swirling around, she propped herself off the wall before scurrying to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She leaned against the door, trying to still her breathing, slow the beating of her heart and rid her face of the hot flush.

Down the hall, Troy heard the door click shut and strained his head to peer into the hall.

Huh, no one was there, he thought. Still, he could have sworn he had just seen a flicker of movement. He shrugged before calling one of his students to the front, deciding that it must have just been his imagination.

---

OH MAN, this is the longest chapter yet, I don't even know where it all comes from. Yay for obligatory/cliched paint fights!

I don't have much to say except thanks for all the support and don't forget this chapter's track. It's one of my favourites, the violin is so awesome and the band members are so young and talented.

Enjoy! Tomorrow I'm going in to school to finally send our beloved Yearbook to press! Then I can focus on doing things like writing and painting my nails again!

OH WAIT. Also, I never do this, but there's this lovely LJ community called intothelines where you can nominate your favourite High School Musical fanfictions and authors for oodles of awards! You do need an account to nominate/vote, but they're easier to set up and you don't need to be active to participate! Sign up and join the fun if you haven't already! I still have to submit my nominations...I'm so hopelessly indecisive. :(


	9. The Comforter

---

**Mamihlapinatapei**

Yaghan, noun: a look shared between two people with each wishing the other will initiate something that which both desire, but neither wants to start.

---

There was something about that moment right after you wake up on a day where you don't have to do anything. There's something in the seconds as you open your eyes and realize it is not a Monday nor is it a work day, but it is a weekend and you can do positively anything that your heart desires. There's something so comforting about knowing you can roll over in bed and just get a few more minutes of sleep. Something about knowing that the whole day is just yours.

There was something peaceful about mornings that Troy Bolton loved.

When they didn't start with a loud piercing wail, of course.

Troy bolted up on the couch, tangling his feet in the sheets and falling onto the floor, narrowly missing the coffee-table. He smacked his arm off the floorboards and groaned, before rolling over. A feminine giggle made him force his eyes open.

Sitting up, he located the source of the sound. Gabriella was sitting in the armchair across from him, her legs pulled up to her chest and a mug of coffee in her hand. She sipped it gingerly, smiling at him.

"Good morning," she said sweetly and Troy blinked tiredly. She gestured towards the coffee-table. "You're lucky you didn't hit that. I brought you some coffee."

Turning to the coffee, he pried himself off the ground and sat back on the couch, grabbing the mug and taking a sip, burning his tongue in the process. "Thanks, Gabriella," he said carefully. He set his mug down, looking at her curiously.

She furrowed her brows at him, confused by his stare. "What?" she asked.

"Did you just scream by any chance?" He ran a hand through his messy hair and frowned when she shook her head.

"Nope," she said firmly, "That wasn't me."

Troy raised his eyebrows. "Oh? Who was it then?"

Sighing, Gabriella pointed to the kitchen. "You can go in there and check it out if you really feel the need. But I should warn you," her voice dropped an octave, "it's pandemonium."

Troy looked at her skeptically, glancing in the direction of the kitchen. "What happened?"

Leaning back into the chair, Gabriella buried herself into the cushions, nuzzling her cheek against the pillow before yawning. Troy felt himself melt inwardly at the sight. Goddamn, she was adorable.

Having Gabriella living with them was nothing like what Troy had expected. He had thought he would keep his distance, avoiding her in places like the kitchen and living room, scheduling his work around her routine. The few times they would interact, he imagined exchanging sparing words and unkind gestures. He would let her heal and let her fall out his life. He'd learn to deal, learn to cope and move on and life would go back to normal. She was going to stay for two weeks, three tops and then if fate had it's way, he'd never see her again.

Yet it had been nothing like that. Somewhere along the line, he had told every secret he had held about Edward to her and somehow, they had decided to put the past behind them and move forward. Somehow they had grown close. Somehow he had painted a whole room with her. Somehow he had touched her, briefly, perhaps, but her skin underneath his fingertips was wonderful. Somehow, she had started to bring him coffee every morning. Somehow they had become friends.

And now that the two weeks had passed ages ago and it was just a few days sort of being two months, he had begun to realize that he liked having her there. No, more than liked, he loved having her there. He loved her coffee, he loved her company and he loved their growing friendship. He loved the way she loved, the way she smiled and the way her hair curled around her shoulders.

He loved a lot of things about her. Some that he had just recently noticed and some that had grown over time. And he found that more than anything, he didn't ever want her to move out. He was happy to give up his room for her as long as she was happy. As long as it meant that she stayed.

It had been something he had been thinking about almost constantly for the last few weeks. Two months was an awfully long time, yet she had made no mention of moving out, nor choosing to find another place to live. Her job as a columnist for the local newspaper didn't need her back anytime soon: she had written up columns for the next nine months and had submitted them periodically. As long as she met the deadline, they would let her heal in peace.

He knew this situation couldn't be permanent, that one day she'd have to move out and go back to work. Still, the fear that he'd wake up one morning to find her bags lining the doors was becoming more prominent as the days trickled by. He didn't want her to leave.

But what was keeping her there? The guys were great, but they didn't provide normalcy. And it'd be stupid and absurd to think that he'd have any real impact on whether she would stay or not.

If only she had something to keep her there. Something more than staying in his bedroom. He had been working on it, he really had, but there was still far too much to do, and quite frankly, he wasn't sure it was enough.

If only.

After she made herself comfortable, she pointed over to the kitchen again. "You'll have to see for yourself."

"Fine then," Troy said, setting down his mug and standing. Everything suddenly got louder as he neared the kitchen. Jeff and Chad could be heard arguing and Jason just kept yelling above them. Running a hand through his hair, Troy took a deep breath and stepped into the kitchen cautiously.

The sight in front of him would have been humorous. If it wasn't in his kitchen that it was happening.

The fridge was wide open, as well as the freezer and Chad was hastily yanking items out from the inside, placing them in the random coolers he had retrieved from the basement. Jeff stood beside him, shouting and yelling directions while Jason sat on the counter, a carton of ice cream in his lap, spoon in hand. Troy sighed.

"What happened?" he asked, navigating his way around the kitchen carefully. Puddles of water were collecting on the ground from where Chad had stacked frozen dinners.

"The fridge broke!" Jeff shouted. "No, wait, correction—Jason broke the fridge!"

Troy looked over at Jason, who was once again wearing his viking helmet. He shrugged nonchalantly and brought a spoonful of ice cream to his mouth. "It was an accident, okay? So it turns out that's not how you replace the lightbulb in the fridge, how was I supposed to know?"

Troy stared at him, unsure of what to say without it coming out ridiculously insulting. "Okay, so we are doing what now, exactly?"

"Well, I am trying to save some of our food!" Chad yelled, throwing a package of ribs into the cooler. He turned back to the freezer, pulling out a bag of peas. "Considering our roommate is a fucking drunk who keeps pulling stupid stunts like this!"

"Hey!" Jason yelled, shaking his spoon in Chad's direction. "It's was dollar-beer night! I wasn't going to miss out on that!"

"You shut up before I kick you out!" Chad hissed. "Again!"

"What are you, my mother, Chad?" Jason shot back, shoving the spoon in his mouth.

Chad rolled his eyes dramatically before shoving a box of popsicles in Troy's open hands. "Eat these. I can't save them."

Troy groaned. "You want me to eat an entire box of popsicles?"

Chad nodded. "Yes. Now. I can't see food go to waste. Go share them with Gabriella."

Troy scoffed. "I don't think she's going to be anymore thrilled about eating them than I am."

"If she eats them with you, she will be."

At this Troy flushed, curious about what Chad was insinuating but much too afraid to ask for him to elaborate. "Somehow, I doubt that. Jeff, you eat them."

Jeff put his hands in the air. "No way, man, I just got back from a run and there's no way I'm undoing all my hard work. No way."

Giving up, Troy set the box of popsicles on the kitchen table and rubbed his temples. "Chad, what are you planning to do with all this food once you've got them in coolers. They won't keep that way for long, I mean—"

"Look, I don't know, Bolton, I am trying to save everything before we have to buy new groceries. I will think of the next step afterwards," he glared at Troy, tossing more frozen vegetables into a cooler.

"Why do we have so many frozen vegetables?" Jason mused from the kitchen. "I don't think we ever eat them."

"You never know when you might need them!" Chad said harshly. "If you have company or something and you don't have any fresh vegetables, at least you have something to serve as a side dish, okay? Now shut up and finish eating it."

Troy paused before smiling. "That's it," he said. "The solution to this problem."

"What's it?" Jeff asked curiously. "Eating the food? I thought you said you didn't want to."

Troy shook his head as the phone rang in the background. "No, that's not what I was getting at. We have a barbeque tonight. It's a gorgeous day out, we haven't had real company since before Ed died and I'm sure Gabriella could use a break from cooking. It'll solve our problem and it'll be fun. What do you think?"

Chad paused, leaning against the counter and drumming his fingers along the surface. " I don't know..."

"Come on, Chad!" Troy said, walking over and slinging his arm around his friend. "We can cook up all this meat—we're both good with the grill— and we can invite some people we haven't seen in a while. Rob and Angie, Kelsi Nielson, Melanie Stryde, and hey, Taylor Mckessie."

He watched as Chad's eyes grew slightly wide. "I don't know, Troy."

"You know," Troy began diplomatically, ignoring Jason and Jeff's snickers. "Gabriella was telling me that Taylor's actually really fond of you. Thinks it's awesome how you keep everyone in line here."

"Really?" Chad asked, almost anxiously. "Are you lying?"

"He's not," a sweet voice said as it entered the room. Troy looked over and saw Gabriella holding the phone, a smile on her face. "Every word was true."

Troy grinned. "See, now would Gabriella lie?"

Chad shrugged. "I don't know. She's been spending an awful lot of time with you."

Troy glared. "Are you saying I'm a bad influence?"

"Maybe."

Gabriella rolled her eyes. "Men." She extended the phone to Troy. "It's for you, by the way. It's Angie."

Troy nodded before grabbing the phone and stepping out of the kitchen. "Thanks, Gabriella," he said, smiling at her before bringing the phone to his ear.

"Hey, Ang," he said into the phone. "What's up?"

"Troy! Thank goodness I got you!" the breathless voice on the other end said. "How are you?"

Troy frowned. He didn't like the tone of voice she was using. "I'm good. What about you? How's Rob?"

He heard Angie sigh. "I'm good. But I'm afraid I have some bad news. I know you wanted me for a shoot this Friday, but, well...Rob got tickets for a concert across town and I'm really, really sorry, but it's a once in a life time show and, I feel awful, but—"

"Angie, Angie, Angie," Troy said, cutting her off, feeling slightly disappointed. "Chill. It's fine, no big deal."

He had been planning this photo-shoot with Angie for a while, hoping to further expand his portfolio for a job he was planning to apply for. Although he knew it wasn't Angie's fault, and had the situation been reversed, he would have made the same decision; it was frustrating. Now he had to find another model on short notice. More than that, he had to find another model who didn't suck.

"Are you sure?" Angie asked. "Because, I can get out of it. I'll just tell Rob to go with a friend or something."

"Angie," Troy said firmly, "You will go to that concert and you will drink watered down beer and you will buy the t-shirt, okay?"

Angie laughed. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Troy. Thank you for being so understanding."

"It's not a problem," Troy said, mentally running through a list of contacts. "But I do have an invitation to extend to you. You see, our fridge broke this morning so we're having an impromptu barbeque in an attempt to get rid of all our food before it spoils. You and Rob should definitely make an appearance."

"Oh!" Angie said, sounding excited. "We'll be there, for sure! And I'm really, really sorry—"

"I'm hanging up now, Angie," Troy said cheekily. "Don't forget to bring the beer!"

"Gotcha!" she said cheerfully and with that, Troy hung up the phone before sighing heavily and leaning against the wall. What the hell was he going to do now?

"Hey, everything okay?" Gabriella's voice came from around the corner. She looked at him concerned and he shrugged in response.

"Angie had to cancel a photo-shoot we had planned," he explained, rubbing a tired hand over his face. "I was going to use the shots to submit for a job."

Gabriella winced. "That's awful," she said, biting her lip. "What are you going to do now?"

He shrugged again, propping himself off the wall. "I have no idea. I'll have to find someone else, which is going to be difficult considering the shoot was set for Friday...and I have very few people who will do a shoot like that for me on short notice and not expect to be paid." He let out another sigh. "But whatever, I'll think of something and if worst comes to worst, I'll just use some older photographs." He glanced up at Gabriella, who seemed to be deep in thought. "Did the guys tell you we're throwing a barbeque tonight?"

Gabriella nodded, letting go of her lip. "Yeah, they did. It sounds like fun."

Troy smiled lazily. "It should be, if we can get a few people to come, at least. Rob and Angie said they're in."

Gabriella smiled. "I'm looking forward to it."

He nodded. "I'm glad. I'm gonna go have a shower, though, get my day started." As Troy turned to go upstairs, he glanced over his shoulder at her. "Hey, did you have any plans for this afternoon?"

"Besides helping gather bodies and cooking for the barbeque?" She shook her head. "No. Why?"

"I have something I think you might like," he smiled softly. "Try to keep a couple of hours free. And you're not cooking, by the way. You deserve a break."

"Okay," she said suspiciously. "Want to tell me what it is? And I really don't mind cooking."

"It's not a big deal or anything," he said, rubbing his neck sheepishly. "Just something for us to do. And you're not cooking."

"But really, I don't mind, I—"

"Gabriella!" he said sternly and she laughed, waving him off.

"Okay, okay. But if we get food poisoning, don't blame me," she said, walking back in the direction of the kitchen. Grinning, he watched her depart before ascending the stairs up to the bathroom.

She was smiling. At least some good had come out of this morning.

---

Gabriella happily bounced out of Troy's bedroom that afternoon, feeling excited for the day ahead of her. Troy said he had something planned for them to do, but not to get too excited cause it didn't even involve leaving the house. Despite this, she was looking forward to it. As the days went by, she found herself wanting to spend more and more time with Troy. Not that she minded it.

As she closed the door behind her, she was met with the excited eyes of Jeff, who was practically bouncing on his tiptoes. She looked at him curiously.

"What?" she asked carefully and Jeff launched himself at her, hugging her tightly.

"I did it, Gabriella, I did it!" he exclaimed, jumping around like a child. "I did it!"

"What did you do, Jeff?" she asked, holding her arms out, trying to get him to calm down.

"I asked Annabel to come to the barbeque!" he practically shouted. "I went in for my shift tonight and I just went with it and I asked her and she said yes! She's coming here! Tonight!"

Gabriella broke into a wide grin. "Wow, Jeff, that's awesome!" she said, just as excited. "I can't wait to meet her!"

"Oh, Gabriella, you're going to love her!" Jeff went on. "She is just the best, the most awesome and she's coming here, I can't believe she's coming here!" He stopped suddenly. "Oh my god she's coming here."

Gabriella nodded. "Yes..."

"Oh my god, it's a mess!" Jeff said, grabbing his hair. "I have to clean! Oh my god, what am I going to wear? Oh, man, oh man oh man!" With that he began to turn down the hallway, but Gabriella called after him.

"What?" he asked, jumping up and down, shaking his hands anxiously. "I have to go, I have to go!"

She laughed. "Have you seen Troy?"

Jeff pointed in the direction of Edward's old room. "He's doing something in there, I don't know what, but I've gotta go!" With that, he peeled down the corner to his room and Gabriella was left laughing, staring at Edward's room curiously. What would Troy be doing in there?

She knocked on Edward's door, hearing the music coming from behind it and opened it slowly. Inside the room was Troy, fiddling something inside one of the large boxes set in the room. She cocked an eyebrow. The room was already painted, she wasn't aware that more renovations were taking place.

"Troy?" she asked and his head snapped up. "What are you doing?"

He dropped whatever he was holding onto and cleared his throat. "Gabriella!" he all but yelped. "What are you doing in here?"

She blinked, slightly confused. "I was looking for you. You said you had something for us to do this afternoon, remember?"

Walking towards the door, Troy rubbed his neck nervously. "Oh, yeah, come on, let's get out of here." He began to try and usher her out the door, but she stared at him.

"What are you doing in here?" she asked, looking around, "I didn't know you were doing more renovations."

"I'm not," Troy said, pushing her out the door gently and closing it behind him. "Just doing some cleaning."

He began to walk past her, beckoning for her to follow him down the steps. As she did, so she stared at his back, more confused than ever. "But what was there to clean? We gutted the room before. And what was with all those boxes?"

"I left some stuff in the closet from before when I cleaned it out the first time," Troy said as they entered the living room. "So I was just getting rid of it. No big deal." He gestured for her to sit down on the couch and she did so, folding her arms over her chest.

"I'll let this slide this time, Troy," she said stubbornly, "but can you at least be a gentleman and tell me what we're doing?"

Troy laughed slightly, glad to be off of the hook and sat down beside her, pulling a DVD out from behind his back. His hair flopped in his eyes and she found herself thankful she was seeing less of the beanie lately. He had gorgeous hair and gorgeous eyes, she couldn't deny it. She looked at the movie in his hands before feeling her heart skip several beats. The Virgin Suicides.

"You remembered," she whispered, her voice soft and almost trembling. "I thought you'd forgotten."

Troy smiled sheepishly, slightly surprised by her reaction. "Well, yeah, I did say we would watch it. And we have nothing better to do and it's due back at the video store in a couple of days anyways. So, wanna watch it with me?"

Her eyes bore into his blue ones and she felt herself shiver at the intensity behind them. She nodded, swallowing the lump that had developed in her throat. "I'd love to."

With that, he stood and popped the DVD into the player, before sitting next to her. As he skipped through the commercials and made his way to the main menu, she was suddenly hyperaware of everything around her, the words Troy had used when describing her at his photography class two weeks ago running through her head.

She was important to him. She made him want to be a better person. At first, she had no idea how she was to react to the news. How was she supposed to go about her daily routine when this man she was starting care about thought so highly of her? It was mind boggling in the first few hours, but she found when she saw him later that night at dinner and when he smiled at her, lopsided and sincere, that there was no need to behave any differently around him. He was still the same Troy and she was still loving every bit about him that she was uncovering. Why should she bother making it awkward by revealing what he had said about her?

Besides, she really had no idea what to make of the information. Though she could twist it into many different meanings, she knew that she shouldn't. She could say that it was because he admired her or that he just thought of them as good friends. If she was feeling particularly imaginative, she could say it was because it meant something more.

But when she got to this thought, it was usually when she'd stop thinking altogether. Why was her brain naturally going down that route? And further more, why would she want it to? How would she react? Why was the idea so hopelessly intriguing?

She thought back to that afternoon when he had found out that his model had canceled on him. Despite what he said, she could tell he was frustrated and disappointed. Troy did so much for her, on an almost daily basis. If only she could do something to repay him.

As the movie began to play, she found herself thankful for the distraction, but also found her thoughts drifting around her. He was sitting so close, so terribly close and she had noticed a gentle shift in how physical they were with each other since the day of the paint fight. He run his fingers down her arm when he passed her in the kitchen or the hall and she'd make a point to let their hands touch when she'd hand him his morning coffee. She hadn't shied away the other day when she brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes and he had placed his hand on her lower back when guiding her through a crowd. They were all friendly gestures, but she found herself shivering at each one, heat and shocks running through her. It was weird, but she didn't mind it.

However, as the characters were introduced and the story began, Gabriella found herself completely enraptured. She found herself caught up in the heartbreaking tale of the Lisbon sisters and Troy hadn't lied, the cinematography and soundtrack were stunning. She found herself trembling when Cecila died and excited when Tripp came into the picture. So many emotions were displaying themselves on screen and felt herself falling into each one of them. Why had she never seen this movie before? Why had she never insisted that she and Edward watch it? By the time prom had rolled around, and the blue and white balloons disappeared from screen and all that was left was Lex Lisbon lying in a field, heartbroken, Gabriella felt warm tears falling from her eyes.

Troy shifted beside her and she felt him nudge her arm. "Hey? Are you okay?"

She sniffled. "I'm fine, really," she said, swiping away her tears hastily. "It's just so sad..."

Troy moved a little closer to her, so that their sides touched and she found she was thankful for the warmth. "You've read the book," he said softly, gently. "You know how it ends."

"I know," she said, hiccuping quietly. "But seeing it on screen..." she gave another sniff, "seeing it all laid out for you is so different. It's so much more real."

"Aw, Gabriella," Troy said and she felt herself stiffen slightly as his arm wrapped around her carefully. He moved slowly, as if gauging his reaction and when she didn't flinch or move away, he let his fingers relax and run up and down the length of her arm soothly, pulling her to his side.

All thoughts of the movie drifted from her mind again. Now all her thoughts were on Troy, Troy, Troy. On how good he smelled; just like his room, like sandalwood, pine and Axe body wash. He was warm, so, so warm and his arm was a comforting weight on her shoulders, his fingers still drawing patterns on her arm. She felt herself snuggling into his chest, the soft cotton of his t-shirt resting against her cheek.

She had never felt so safe, so comforted and content in her life. Even when she had laid in Edward's arms, it was nothing like this. Never so warm, never so thoughtful, never so caring.

"Don't cry, Gabriella," he said, letting his chin rest against her head. "It's just a movie."

Her tears had stopped moments before, but she refused to move. And so, in his arms, comfortable and warm is how she watched the rest of the movie.

---

The barbeque was in full swing. Music was playing, the guests had arrived and the coolers Chad had painstakingly filled were nearly empty, food being passed around and shoved down everyone's throats before even a squeak of protest could be uttered.

Troy was seated on the bench in the backyard, a plate of food sitting on his lap, his ankles crossed as he watched the scene in front of him. Jason had traded his trusty viking helmet for a novelty hat that held two beer cans on either side of his head and was currently attempting to refill one of them. Across from him, Jeff was clumsily trying to talk to Annabel, who sipped her own beer and was talking animatedly. If she had noticed his nervousness, she wasn't letting on. Angie and Rob were laughing with Kelsi and a few of Chad's friends from work over on the porch. Others mingled about, drinking, eating and generally enjoying themselves.

Across the way was Chad, explaining something to Taylor Mckessie, who looked slightly bored, but was trying to remain interested. Troy smiled; at least she was making an effort. Despite their obvious lack in interests, the way she was looking Chad as he spoke definitely had to hold something. Besides, anyone who pretended to care about what Chad was saying had to care at least a little bit.

It would be nice, Troy decided, if Chad could have someone in his life. He had been single even longer than Troy had and it wasn't by choice. Troy had accepted his lack of a significant other and he had his reasons for it. He chose to remain single, but at the same time, chose not to date. Chad, however, didn't. So seeing him interact with Taylor, regardless of whether it went anywhere or not, was the best thing that could come out of the evening.

Then there was Gabriella and Troy's eyes couldn't help but wander over to her direction every few minutes. She had made small talk with the guests, smiling and laughing and he felt his heart triple in size at her happiness. When she had first come to the house she had been so quiet and after the revelations that occurred after that, she became even more reserved. Now it was as if she was coming out of her shell and Troy couldn't be happier.

He looked away, however, when he noticed her coming in his direction, two cans of beer in her hand as well as a plate of food. He didn't want her to see him staring.

"Hey, Troy," she said softly, taking a seat next to him. "Why are you avoiding all of the fun?" She extended a beer to him and he accepted it, thanking her before smiling.

"I'm not avoiding anything," he said, popping open the top, "I'm just observing everything that's going on. Chad seems to be chatting up Taylor pretty thickly."

Gabriella opened her own beer before nodding. "Yeah, but it's apparent that he likes her. When the two of them were...helping me out after Edward died, there was a spark there. I was half-alive and could still see it. Now they just need to fan the flames."

Troy winced at her words. She was half-alive, she said so herself. God, how he hated Edward. He decided to let it go. She had said it in passing, it wasn't something she wanted to address and it was apparent just how far she had really come in the last few months. "And you think they're doing that right now?"

She nodded, setting her beer down on the empty space beside her. "Yep, most certainly." She lifted her hamburger to her mouth and took a bite. Surveying the yard, she pointed to their friends. "It actually seems like it's going on quite a bit, actually. I mean, Jeff is over there attempting to woo Annabel and look at Jason and Kelsi." At this, Troy's gaze fell over on the two who were talking in hushed sounds, both looking slightly flustered. "They used to date in high school, didn't they?"

"They did," Troy said, watching them interact. "They had a bad break up, though, so it's interesting to see them together right now. Not bad, but interesting."

Gabriella smiled and took another bite of her burger. "Love is just in the air tonight isn't it?"

Despite what his mind was telling him, Troy scooted a little closer to her so that their knees grazed each others. The sensation made tingles run up his spine and he was reminded of the way she felt in his arms when she cried that afternoon during the movie. When she didn't move away, or even tense, he relaxed and enjoyed the small spark of warmth.

"Yeah," he said softly, looking at her profile. "I guess it is."

He felt his heart pick up speed at the blush that spread across her cheeks at his words. Was it possible she had felt it, too? She swallowed before setting her food down. "So, I've been thinking."

Troy raised an eyebrow. "About what?" He watched her curiously. She was avoiding looking at him and he couldn't help but wonder what had gotten her in such an uncomfortable state.

"About your photography situation," she said carefully and he stiffened. "About your lack of a model."

"Oh, really?" he said, looking away from her. "And what about it?"

She took a deep breath. "And I was thinking that, maybe, if you wanted...you could use me as a model. I mean, it's going to be so difficult getting one on short notice and I don't expect anything in return. I just want to help out."

Truth be told, Troy hadn't heard anything she said has after her offer. His throat went suddenly dry and he felt himself gulp. "Um, I..."

"I mean!" Gabriella said suddenly, looking small and shy, "You don't have to, of course! I just, um, figured that since you were in a bind, I'd offer my um...services. I've never modeled before, but it can't be that hard." She blanched. "That's not to say that it wouldn't be hard, but, um, I—"

"Gabriella!" Troy said suddenly, the warmth of her knee against his suddenly burning him. "I'd be honored to have you work as my model."

She blinked, slightly stunned. "Really?"

He nodded, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "Yeah. I mean, thank you, you have no idea how much help it'll be. And you're, well, you're you, so..."

She narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean I'm me?"

Troy laughed. "You know I think you're gorgeous, Gabriella," he felt his heart skip a beat at her wide eyes and deepening flush, "So naturally, the pictures will turn out fantastic regardless of any technique I use."

"It's one way I figured I could repay you," she said, taking another drink of her beer. "I mean, you've done so, so much for me."

"Gabriella," Troy said suddenly, resting his hand on her knee. She stiffened at the touch, but he didn't withdraw. "You don't need to repay me for those kind of things. I do them because I want to."

She bit her bottom lip, eyes darting around his face nervously. "Are you sure? It's not because...because you feel bad?"

He bit his own lip, his heart pounding. "No, Gabriella, I do it because, well, you've become my friend and I care about you..." he trailed off, letting the unspoken words and sentiments hang in the air where she couldn't catch them.

Gabriella smiled softly, kindly, her eyes dancing. "I care about you, too, Troy." And with those words he felt his heart fall to his feet and start dancing across the lawn. She cared about him. Gabriella! The woman who used to hate him! She cared about him! The one who he...oh, well, never mind.

"And because I care about you," she continued, "I really want to do this for you. So that's okay, right?"

He nodded excitedly. "There's no one else I'd rather, now that I really think about it. Thank you, thank you so much."

With that, he gathered her up in his arms and crushed her against his chest. The moment didn't necessarily call for an embrace, but something in him had snapped when she had said she cared. If only she knew, if only she understand how much and how he cared for her.

As he held her and felt her arms reach around to hug his waist, he wondered if she ever would.

---

This chapter goes out to my lovely friend, Tiffany, aka captivation. She asked what she would get if she finished chapter five of 'White Horse' and I responded with 'CHAPTER NINE OF MAMI. TOMORROW.' Well, that was Monday and I then told her it would be up this morning and now it's nearly 11 at night, so sorry, THIS ONE IS FOR YOU, BABE.

Also, special thanks to my bestie, Jacqui, for coming up with the fridge idea. Thanks for always complying when I demand you give me a prompt.

No thanks goes out to my neighbor, who blasted ghetto beats all day long. I hate you.

As always, thanks for the support and don't forget this chapter's track!


	10. The Love Interest

---

**Mamihlapinatapei**

Yaghan, noun: a look shared between two people with each wishing the other will initiate something that which both desire, but neither wants to start.

---

Maybe she should have thought it a little longer before offering to model for Troy. Maybe she should have given it more than a few hours of thought. But she really had thought about it: she thought about it upside down, backwards and forwards and everytime she came to the same conclusion: she would lose nothing by offering to help him, so what was the harm? Of course, this started her on a mental tangent about why was she always so concerned about what she had to lose or gain in a situation? What about him? Shouldn't she be thinking more selflessly? This of course, led her to smacking her head off his desk while she stared at his zipped up portfolio and debated flipping through it, just to get a peak.

But the last time she had actually asked to see it, he threw it in the backseat of his car. Invading his privacy wasn't going to help the situation at all, so she left it.

What it came down to was that Troy was in a bind: he needed a model, someone who wouldn't expect pay and who wouldn't be a diva in less than two days time and well, she had two arms, two legs and a head, how hard could it be? She had been told she was fairly good looking and although there were a million things she would change about it given the option, she could admit that she had a decent figure.

And so she offered. And then he accepted. Oh, and then he hugged her.

Maybe it was the hug that threw her off. Not that he hugged her, for she had been getting the impression that he was a touchy-feely type, but how she felt when he did. That she responded by wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her cheek against his shoulder, breathing in his scent. There was something about Troy that was undeniably comforting. Maybe it was his unexpected, but open desire to help her. If she was going out on a limp, she would call it taking care of her. But she wasn't that absurd.

Still, there was something in his eyes when he looked at her when she said that love was in the air the night before that stayed with her. Captured in her mind like one of his many photographs.

The morning after the barbeque, Gabriella paddled down the stairs, rubbing her eyes and yawning. No one else seemed to be up and poking her head into the living room, she wasn't surprised to find Troy laying across the couch, his mouth slightly open and his head tipped back. She felt a pang of guilt; she was the reason, after all, that he had no bedroom. Maybe it was time she considered going to find a place of her own.

Contemplating the advantages of a condo versus an apartment, Gabriella stepped into the kitchen nonchalantly. However, upon discovering it occupied, her eyes doubled in size. Standing beside the coffee pot, in a long white t-shirt that obviously was not her own, was Taylor Mckessie. She turned slowly and when her eyes fell on Gabriella she jumped and turned bright crimson.

"Gabriella!" she said nervously, a hand pressed to her chest. "What are you doing up so early?"

Glancing at the clock, a smile began to stretch across Gabriella's face. "It's just after eight, hardly early," she sat down at the kitchen table and observed her friend. "Why Taylor Mckessie, are you perhaps doing a walk of shame right here in the guy's very own kitchen?"

Never in a million years did Gabriella think she would find Taylor in kitchen, even despite the bantering and flirting that had gone on between she and Chad the night before. Taylor was a woman of strong morals and something as scandalous as a one-night stand, even if it progressed into something more, was not on her list of things to do before she died. But the sight was amusing, to say the least, and Gabriella was going to reveal in it while she could.

Taylor blushed and poured the coffee into two mugs, one for herself and one for Gabriella. "I don't know. Maybe. Why? Is it that obvious?"

Gabriella laughed into her coffee when Taylor handed it to her. "I'm pretty positive that the t-shirt you're wearing is a few sizes too big for it to belong to you. Furthermore, I'm pretty positive that you are not currently living here."

Head in her hands, Taylor groaned, embarrassed and Gabriella giggled. "Don't worry about it, Tay," she said comfortingly. "It's not a big deal. We're grown adults."

"I know, I know," Taylor said, waving her hand in the air. "It's just I thought I was being so sneaky! No one seems to move in this house until after nine." She glanced up at her friend. "I forgot to take you into account."

Raising an eyebrow, Gabriella settled more comfortably in her seat. "Forget I'm staying here?" she asked coyly and Taylor shook her head.

"Not exactly," she said, biting her lip. "Just forgot that you were such an earlier riser. Oh, god this is so embarrassing."

A moment of silence passed between them before Gabriella smiled slyly. Taylor stared at her, unamused.

"What?" she snapped, causing Gabriella's grin to grow wider.

"So?" she prodded and Taylor pursed her lips, refusing to take the bait.

"So what?"

Gabriella rolled her eyes. Taylor would be a prude till the end of her days, Gabriella not too far behind her. She was never one to kiss and tell, but frankly, the whole situation was more than a little amusing to Gabriella. Besides, knowing that she hadn't been crazy and that there had indeed been a spark between the two of them in the past. And that the flames had indeed been flamed.

"So, Chad Danforth, huh?" Gabriella said, gesturing for her friend to sit down at the table. "Don't hold back on me. Spill."

Taylor bit her lip in an attempt to contain her smile. "Oh, Gabriella," she said suddenly as she collapsed onto the chair. "I'm smitten."

Gabriella laughed, feeling like a giddy school girl. "Taylor Mckessie? Smitten with Chad Danforth? Never would have thought it."

"Me neither," Taylor admitted. "I mean, back in the day he was such a loser, such a goofball. We used to work together at the local grocery store through college and my god, he was an idiot. And then something happened and he grew up and it's like...I think I might die, I'm so infatuated."

Gabriella didn't say anything, thinking about the last time she had been really infatuated with someone. Nothing really came to mind, but the day before with Troy lingered in the back of her mind. She shoved it aside.

"He knows how to handle situations, how to take control now, but he's still got this little bit of immaturity, this little spark he had when he was young and instead of being repelled by it," Taylor sighed, "It just endears me to him more."

"He thought you weren't interested, did you know that?" Gabriella said softly as her Taylor's head snapped up. "A couple of weeks ago we went out to run some errands and he was lamenting about his lack of a love life and I asked him about you and he said you weren't interested."

Taylor scoffed. "I was playing hard to get. Of course that went right over his head."

Gabriella giggled again. "So? What exactly transpired last night?" 

"Gabriella Montez!" Taylor exclaimed, her face flushed. "What are you insinuating?"

"Oh, you know," Gabriella said shrugging.

"My God," Taylor said, dragging a hand through her hair. "You have been spending far too much time with these men. I'm surprised you're not oversleeping, too."

"Are you kidding? The mornings are the most peaceful time of day here," Gabriella replied, sipping her coffee, "Of course I'm going to take advantage of it while I can."

"That's not the only thing you seem to be taking advantage of," Taylor said with a smirk. "How about their hospitality? You've been here almost two months, now. I thought it was only supposed to be a couple of weeks."

"So did I," Gabriella said softly, setting her mug down. "But I've gotten so comfortable. I love it here, I love the guys, all of them."

Taylor didn't say anything for a moment. "Don't you think, though, that it's probably a good idea for you to move out? Soon? I mean, you can only stay here for so long. You do need to start living life again. How many pre-written columns do you have left?"

"Enough to finish out the year," Gabriella responded, tracing the rim of the mug, "But you're right, I can't stay here much longer. It isn't fair to them. I've been considering it a lot lately. Maybe it is time I move out."

"You're thinking about moving out?" a much quieter voice said and the women looked over to see Troy enter the kitchen, his hair sticking in every which way, dressed in a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and a grey t-shirt. His face looked sleepy, but almost pained. Gabriella smiled slowly.

"Well, yeah," she said, a little taken aback when he frowned. "How long can you expect me to stay here?"

"For as long as you need to, as long as you want," Troy said hastily, walking over to the coffee pot and pouring himself his own mug. "You don't feel like you're intruding, do you? Cause I really don't want you to feel like that."

"I don't, really," Gabriella insisted, "It's just that, yes, I can't live here forever. And it's probably for the best that I move out sooner rather than later."

Troy shook his head. "Well, don't go making any rash decisions, okay?" he said seriously. "I mean, at least give it a week, give yourself some time to really decide if that's what you really want. You know you're welcome to stay here as long as you want, right?"

Gabriella nodded slowly. "Yes. And I'm not going to be moving out within a week, Troy," she smiled. "These things take longer than that."

Troy smiled slowly, but the anxiety was still present in his face. It's presence made Gabriella's heart pound. Suddenly then, Troy's eyes fell on Taylor and he grinned.

"Good morning, Mckessie," he said cheekily and Taylor glared.

 "Fuck off, Bolton," she hissed, "I already got the same look from Gabriella."

But Troy just continued to grin. "Pretty sure you don't live here. Am I right, Gabriella?" 

Laughing, she nodded. "He's got you there, Taylor."

"I hate the both you," Taylor mumbled. "So very much."

"Not as much as Chad is going to hate me," Troy said, downing the rest of his coffee, "Considering I am going upstairs to rib him right now." He glanced up at Gabriella. "Did you have plans for today?"

She shook her head. "No, why?"

"Well, I don't either and I was thinking about it, and do you just want to do the shoot today?" he asked carefully. "I know I scheduled it with Angie for Friday, but you live here, so it's a little more convenient."

Gabriella felt herself flush at the mention of the shoot. "Sure, that sounds good," she swallowed, he mouth suddenly dry. "Did you um, want me to wear anything specific?"

Troy considered this. "Um, that white dress you have? The one you wore to the craft store? That'd be great, perfect for what I was going for." He gulped, his face turning slightly red. "And this sounds weird, too, but no make up, but it would be helpful if you painted your lips red. For strictly artistic reasons," he stammered, feeling bashful. "I was going to have Angie do the same, you can ask her if—"

"Troy," Gabriella laughed, her heart thumping in her chest. "I know your intentions are strictly professional. What time?"

"Around one," he said, looking her in the eye. He held her gaze for a moment and she started back, eyes darting across his features. Damn, he was beautiful. He swallowed thickly before turning to leave. "I'll talk to you soon."

"Kay," Gabriella said, waving slightly as he retreated out the room. She looked over to see Taylor gaping at her.

"What?" she asked carefully, worried at the look on her friend's face.

"Oh my god," Taylor said quietly as Troy stepped out of the room. "Oh my god, do you realize what just went down?" 

Gabriella blinked, confused. "Troy and I made plans for a photo-shoot? I know, it's weird considering we hated each other a few months ago, but—"

"No," Taylor said, leaning her elbows on the table and staring at the woman across from her with wide eyes. "Mamihlapinatapei."

Eyes darting around in confusion, Gabriella cleared her throat. "I'm sorry, but did you just speak English?"

"No."

"Oh, well, that explains that." Gabriella paused. "Well, not really, actually."

"Mamihlapinatapei," Taylor said again, setting her mug off coffee on the counter. "It's a Yaghan word for a look shared between two people with both wanting the same thing, but wishing the other would initiate it. Also known as longing, pining, blah blah blah."

Gabriella flushed. What was Taylor on about? "Okay..."

"And you and Bolton over there? You have it. In spades. In buckets. I have never seen a stronger example of mamihlapinatapei in my whole life."

"Would you stop using that word?" Gabriella said, pressing a hand to her temple. "You're giving me a headache."

"I don't care," Taylor said. "Gabriella, you should have seen the way you two looked at each other. I have never seen you look at anyone like that in all the years i have known you. I have never seen two people look at each other the way you two did. What is going on between you?"

Taking a gulp of coffee, Gabriella tried desperately to clear her head. What was going on between she and Troy? They were friends, that much was apparent and certain. But she had been all too comfortable in his arms while watching the movie yesterday for it to be strictly platonic. She pondered the situation for a moment.

Was it possible that somewhere in between talking in the middle of the night and visiting the craft store, Gabriella had developed feelings for Troy? She shook her head and scoffed. No, it was impossible. Sure, he was talented and kind and ambitious and funny and good looking, and she was allowed to acknowledge all of these things. But no where along the line did it mean that she had actual feelings for him. Romantic feelings. No, no, it was entirely too soon. Edward hadn't even been gone a year yet. There was no way.

Or was there? Was there a chance that the warmth she felt flood through her when he laughed actually meant something? Realizing she had not spoken in several minutes, Gabriella looked up to see Taylor standing there with a wide smirk on her face.

"See?" the dark haired woman said. "You had to think about it. Anything you try to say now won't ring true, so don't even try it. Besides, I know a look of mamihlapinatapei when I see it."

Sighing, the thoughts in her head far too much to comprehend for the early hour, Gabriella dumped the rest of her coffee down the drain before flicking Taylor in the arm.

"Shut up, Taylor," she said with a cheeky smile as she exited the room. "I'm pretty sure I'm not the one wearing Chad Danforth's t-shirt right now."

With a cough and a sputter, Taylor did as she was told and stopped talking.

---

"Oh, Chad Danforth!" Gabriella sang an hour later, knocking on the door of Chad's office. "I saw your lady caller this morning!"

Stepping into the room, she saw an aggravated Chad sitting at his desk. "If you're here for either details or to mock me, please leave. Troy has done both and I am not interested in either."

"I'm not," Gabriella said, smiling as she took a seat in the chair across from him. "I'm here to ask you if you wanted to go out for lunch. I feel like we need to do some catching up."

Chad glanced away from his computer screen and eyed her carefully. "I just talked to you yesterday," he said warily.

"I know," Gabriella said with a roll of her eyes. "But that was before Taylor spent the night, and as her friend, I need to screen test you to make sure I approve."

"You already know me," Chad said, sounding even more annoyed.

Gabriella sighed. "I know you as Chad, my friend. I need to get to know you as Taylor's boyfriend." She bit her lip. "Really, though, Chad, I think we need to talk some things over regarding my living arrangements."

Chad blinked. That got his attention. "Why? Are you thinking of moving out?"

"Honestly?" Gabriella looked down. "A little bit, yeah. I mean, I should, shouldn't I? I've overstayed my welcome hugely. But I figured you and I should discuss it anyways."

Chad didn't say anything for a moment, narrowing his eyes. It would suck so hardcore if she were to leave now, especially with everything that had happened and that should happen within the next few days, the next week. He narrowed his eyes. "Have you talked to Troy about this?"

Scrunching her nose, she nodded. "Yes, briefly. He told me to give it some thought. Why?"

Chad rose from his desk, turning off his laptop. "I'm just wondering, that's all," he smiled weakly. "Let's go, though, for lunch. It sounds like a good idea."

Gabriella furrowed her eyebrow, confused. "I don't get it Chad, why does it matter if I talk to Troy about it?" Truth be told, he hadn't seemed thrilled with the idea, but that didn't mean anything.

Did it?

As she followed Chad into the hallway, she tried to wrap her head around this. "Seriously, though, what does it—" her train of thought was cut off when she saw Troy walking down the hall with a toolbox in his hand. She glanced between it and his face several times before addressing it.

"Why do you have a toolbox?" she asked carefully and he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Just doing some work in Edward's room," he said just as carefully and she felt her heart skip a beat.

"Why?"

"The floorboards are kind of shitty," he said, scurrying past her to get upstairs. "It's not a big deal."

She frowned. What the hell was he still doing in Edward's room? As far as she knew, after they had finished painting, the men were just planning to fill it with junk and call it a day. What did it matter if the floorboards were out of shape, too?

"Did you want some help?" she offered, "You know how much I love home renovations."

"Hey!" Chad said beside her. "I thought we were going to lunch!"

Gabriella smacked her forehead, embarrassed. "Oh, yes! Sorry! I know, just figured I'd offer," she paused mid-ramble, feeling her cheeks heat up. "Did you want to come with us, Troy? To lunch, I mean?"

"Nah," Troy shook his head, taking the stairs two by two. "I have a lot I want to finish in the room before the shoot this afternoon, so go on without me."

She frowned yet again, slightly disappointed by his rejection. "Are you sure?"

"Gabriella," Troy said, stopping on the top step, "It's fine. Go with Chad. I have some stuff to set up for the shoot, too, so really, it's a good idea if you go and I get it done so we don't run this thing till midnight." With a smile and a wave, he walked down the hall.

Chad and Gabriella walked to the car in silence, but once she slid in the passenger seat, she cut into him. "What is he really doing in Edward's room?" she asked pointedly and Chad rolled his eyes.

"Just what he said he was doing," Chad explained, "Fixing the floorboards."

"But you guys are turning it into a storage room," she said confused, "What does it matter?"

"Oh," Chad said, putting the car in reverse and pulling out of the driveway. "Troy just refuses to do anything half-assed, even if it is just a storage room. If he's going to do something, he's going to do it right. You know how he is."

Gabriella stared out the window at this. "I don't, really, but I'm learning."

Chad glanced at her as he switched lanes. "That's true. You guys have been so...friendly with each other, that I kind forget that you used to be at odds all of the time. Not entirely, but it's no longer lingering at the surface."

She sighed, leaning her head against the window pane. "He's nothing like I thought he was," she admitted softly. "He's completely different."

"A good different?" Chad asked. "Or a bad different?" 

"An amazing different," she said with another sigh. "I never in a million years thought he'd dedicate so much time to what he does. To photography. And I had no idea he taught those kids..."

"Ha, him and those kids," Chad said with a smile. "He does love teaching them."

"And he's so kind and he's funny and smart," she turned to Chad. "Did you know he was smart? Cause I never knew he was smart."

Laughing, he nodded. "I had a hunch."

"He's just so...so good," she finished. "I'm so glad that I stopped being so narrowed mined and took a chance to get to know him."

"I think he's more than glad that you did, too, Gabriella," Chad said, "Pizza sound good, by the way."

"Yeah," she nodded, biting her lip. "Do you really think he's glad that he and I are friends now, Chad?"

"Are you kidding?" Chad asked, sounding mildly astounded. "Gabriella, between you and I...I haven't seen Troy this comfortable or happy in nearly three years."

Gabriella's breath caught in her throat. Three years? But that was when.

"Yes, that's when you started dating Edward," Chad said, as if reading her mind. "It wasn't easy for him, for any of us to have you guys always fighting, but it was how it was. Now that you guys have made amends and are spending all this time together, it's like...it's like he's a new person."

Chad let out a deep breath as he pulled into the parking lot of a local pizzeria. "Which is why I have to ask to please really think about moving out. You may not realize it, Gabriella, but you mean more to him than anyone has in a long time."

Feeling her legs go numb at his words, she stared back at him, nodding slowly. "What are you saying?"

Chad looked her straight in the eye. "I'm saying that you moving out wouldn't make him happy, that's all. Now let's go eat, I'm starving."

Stepping out of the car, Gabriella felt almost dizzy. She knew Troy cared about her, but to say that she meant more to him than anyone had in a long time? Wasn't that going a little too far? Closing the car door behind her, she looked at Chad. "Hey, Chad?"

"Look, Gabs, I know what I said was kind of heavy and you probably have a million questions," he chuckled when she nodded, "but for now it's probably best to drop it. I know I sound like an ass for it, but it's probably for the best if you just let things play out on their own for a while. Can you just postpone the thinking of moving out for at least another week?"

She nodded, swallowing thickly. "Sure."

Chad grinned. "Great. Now how about you tell me some of Taylor's favourite things so I can surprise her with a present, okay?"

Shoving the thoughts of Troy and her pounding heart aside, she laughed as he held the door open for her and began to list off things about her best friend, eager for the distraction.

---

"Knock, knock," Gabriella said, stepping into Troy's studio later that afternoon. "You all ready for me?"

She was putting on a front. A confident appeal in place of the nervous beating of her heart. She didn't know what she was so anxious about the situation, but something about Troy photographing her had caused butterflies to take over her entire being.

And she didn't necessarily mind it.

Troy jumped when he heard her voice. "Hey," he said, trying to calm himself. He adjusted the beanie on his head and smiled at her, almost nervously. His eyes glanced over her and his mouth fell slightly agape. "Wow, you look, um, you look great. Perfect."

Gabriella was wearing a white dress, different from the one he had suggested. It was simple, a sleeveless number with tiered chiffon layers that fell to her knee. She had worn red lipstick, also per his request and her hair was done in soft waves. "Are you sure?" she asked, "Cause I can go change if you want. I know it's not the same dress, but the other one is in the wash, so..."

"No!" Troy said, coming over and grabbing her by the shoulders. "It's perfect."

He directed her over to a chaise lounge he had placed in the far side of the room, one that she didn't know existed in the household. It was made out of cherrywood and the cushion was a deep plum colour. He motioned for her to sit down and she did so.

"Is everything all set up?" she asked, looking around. There were several light fixtures up that hadn't been there before, as well as a dark black drop-sheet behind her. Across from her, Troy was getting his camera and went to crouch in front of her.

"Yeah," he responded. "Do you mind if we just jump into this? Seeing you all dolled up has given me a burst of inspiration and I want to strike while the iron's hot." 

Gabriella blinked, slightly surprised. Wasn't there more to this than that? "Um, no, it's fine. Just...tell me how you want me."

Troy titled his head, observing her. "Okay, um, sit against the back of the chaise and let your arms rest on the back of it on either side of you. Lean back, but don't lean."

She moved accordingly, shifting until she felt comfortable. "This okay?"

He nodded, smiling anxiously. "Yeah, perfectly. Tilt your head back and look through your lashes."

When she did, he snapped a photo and a loud pop was heard as the lights flashed. This set off something in him and he snapped several more photos after that.

"Okay, um," he glanced up at her again. "We're going to play with things for a while. How about you cross your legs and rest your hands on your knees? Lean forward a bit."

Gabriella did so, but found the position was uncomfortable. Instead, she let one arm rest over her thighs and her elbow on her knee, propping her head up in her hand. "What about this?"

Troy grinned. "Perfect. Can you give me an apathetic expression along with that?" She did so and he laughed. "Perfect. Perfect, perfect, perfect."

They carried on this way for quite some time, both testing out different things. Troy told her to bite her lip and she would, but she give her lashes a bit of a flutter, too. He'd tell her to toss him a smile and she'd grin brightly. She moved across the chaise several times, bringing her knees up to lay beside her at one point and another she was sitting with her head thrown back in laughter.

There was something about how comfortable she felt in front of Troy, yet how nervous she felt at the same time. She had felt it before, she knew she had, but she couldn't quite place it. As he snapped shot after shot, she tried desperately to figure it out, but it wasn't happening. This was much stronger, that was for certain, but what as it?

"Kay, um, how about you try lying down?" he suggested after sometime and Gabriella instantly leaned back. "No, no!" he said, waving his hands. "Not like that. Um, on your stomach."

Gabriella blinked and did as she was told, sliding down onto her stomach and resting her cheek against the smooth fabric of the chair. "Like this?"

"Um, sort of," Troy said, biting his lip. Her heart thumped in his chest as his eyes roamed over her figure. "Bring up your left wrist and rest your head against it. Let your other one dangle over the side."

Nodding, she adjusted herself accordingly. When she glanced at him again, she saw he was looking at her with a smile on his face.

"What?" she asked. "Is this good?"

"Perfect," he said softly. His smile grew larger. "Is it just me or are you getting a Titanic vibe from this, too?"

Gabriella smiled slowly. "Maybe a little."

Troy laughed, looking at her through the camera. "I promise this will be PG, Gabriella," he said with a wink. "No nudity and I'm not expecting payment. Nor am I expecting anything else."

When she didn't responded, he looked up and blushed. "I mean, not that, um, I really was thinking about Titanic. Cause that was a pretty, um, erotic scene and it's not like um, we're you know, or anything and I um, not that I have feelings like that for you," he stuttered, "I mean, not that you aren't very attractive because you are, I just—"

He paused, seeing the amused look on her face. "I'm going to stop talking now before this gets more awkward," he declared and she giggled, making him smile.

"Sounds like a good idea."

He nodded. "Okay, now this may be difficult, but try not to smile too much. This is a serious portrait."

Swallowing, she loosened her muscles so that she was neither smiling nor frowning. Adjusting the zoom, he took the picture quickly, the loud pop of the flash almost startling her. She had almost forgotten what they were doing.

He stared at the screen on the camera for a moment, analyzing it. Gabriella swallowed, feeling nervous. What was he thinking?

"Wow," he breathed, staring at the image. "Wow."

"What?" she asked almost breathlessly. "What is it? Is it bad?"

Troy glanced up, alarmed. "No! Oh, god, no! It's...my god, Gabriella, you're breath-taking."

She felt the wind knock out of her then, and if she were feeling more sober, she would have laughed at the irony. But his piercing gaze was making everything seem heavier, hazier and more languid. She could barely think.

"Your hair's falling a little too much into your eye, though," he critiqued. He came to kneel in front of her and carefully raised his hand. "Do you mind...?"

Gabriella blinked, shaking herself out of her thoughts. "No," she said, swallowing. "You're the photographer. You should...adjust things as you see fit."

Nodding, he lifted his hand and brushed a few stray curls out out of her eyes. She felt her cheeks heat up at the movement and sparks course through her veins. His touch was electric.

She glanced at him and felt a shock run through her when she saw his equally nervous expression. He was biting his lip, looking at her tentatively. Gently, he tucked the hair behind her ear before pulling a few more strands to fall over her shoulders.

His hand curled around her wrist that was falling over the side of the chaise and bent it to rest by her head. Adjusting her hair again slightly, he smiled at her hesitantly before stepping back several feet to frame the shot.

Click, went the camera and Gabriella felt her heart pound at the sound. Something had shifted. Things weren't so comfortable suddenly, tension filling every corner of the room. There was something lingering in the air, something sitting there between them that she couldn't quite identify, but couldn't ignore, either. It was heavy and settled in upon them, making it difficult for her to breath.

"Okay," he said softly, glancing up at her and then back down at the camera. "Um, look down at the ground for this one, a spot a few feet in front of you."

She did as she was told, trying to keep the nervous expression of of her face. She heard the snap of the shutter again and a tremble passed through her body.

"Perfect," he said, shifting slightly. "Now look down at your hands, like they hold some kind of mystery or something stupid like that."

She held back her giggles and did just that, examining her hands. In reality, they did hold a mystery for her. For her hands were not the ones that she was accustomed to. That Gabriella didn't pose for photographers or feel her heart pound whenever Troy Bolton looked at her.

That Gabriella didn't even look at Troy Bolton.

"Kay," Troy said, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He adjusted his beanie on his head and twisted the lens. "Look at me for this one."

She glanced up then, her eyes meeting his just beyond the camera as he snapped the photo. He lowered it and looked at the shot before leaning back on his haunches.

"Whoa," he breathed. "Okay, we're done here. This is the shot. Whoa, whoa, whoa."

"What?" Gabriella asked, her heart still pounding. Troy stood straight and walked over to his desk, moving the mouse so his Mac went out of sleep mode. "We're finished already?"

Troy nodded quickly, hooking up the camera to the computer. "Yeah," he said, anxiously clicking keys on the keyboard. "I know we've only been here like, what, forty-five minutes? But I know a good shot when I see one and Gabriella, this is it."

She rose and came to stand behind him. "Well, at least let me see it," she said quietly.

"Just give me a moment," he responded. "It's still uploading."

In the minute that passed as the images flickered on screen all too briefly as they transferred, Gabriella tried to get her bearings. She had never felt so nervous and excited at the same time in her entire life. Being around Troy right now, with whatever was hanging in the air was making her feel like a completely different person. What was this feeling? Why did she work so hard to make him smile? Why was she spending so much time with him? Why was she practically convulsing at his touch? Why did she crave it?

Even now as he sat in front of her, she wanted to rest her hands on his shoulders; feel his warmth through his t-shirt. She longed to feel the strands of his hair between her fingertips, the rough stubble on his face from his five o'clock shadow. She wanted to be pressed up against him once more as she held her in his arms. What the hell was going on?

"It's uploaded," Troy said, clicking on the image. "Take a look."

Gabriella looked at the screen as her image popped up and did a double take. She was lying against the chaise lounge, her head resting against one wrist, her curls fanning out around her. Her lips were smiling almost coyly, something she hadn't even realized she had done. Her gaze was fixed directly on the camera and there was an unknown, but undeniably twinkle in them. She swallowed.

"It...it doesn't even look like me," she admitted. "Whoa."

"Do you like it?" Troy asked carefully, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "I know it's art, so you can be subjective, but it's also a portrait. One of you, so it's harder not to be bias and—"

"It's stunning," Gabriella said, lifting a hand to her cheek. "I...this is going to sound so vain and ridiculous, but I can't believe I look like that."

Troy laughed, reaching over and squeezing her hand. She instantly felt warm. "Gabriella, you're stunning. Gorgeous. Beautiful. Any adjective in the dictionary can be used to describe you, but honestly," he smiled, "I don't know if they're a proper fit. And I say this sincerely and without any slimy intentions."

Gabriella laughed, her cheeks flushed. "Thank you, really."

"No, thank you. Seriously, thank you so much, Gabriella," Troy said, letting go of her hand and standing up. He walked the two steps towards her and scooped her up his arms, swinging her around gently. She squealed and he buried his head in her neck as she clung to him.

As he set her down on the ground, she smiled against his shoulder. "I'm just glad I could help. I know I keep saying this, but it was the least I could do."

Troy shook his head. "You didn't have to do anything, but seriously, thank you so much," he said against her neck. "These are some of the best shots I've ever taken. Thank you, thank you, thank you."

He drew back from her then and examined her face, a beat passing between. Lifting his hand, he gently brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and his gaze met hers. She was startled at the feelings it invoked in her, the way his blue eyes bore into her own. She felt chills run up and down her spine.

"You cold?" he asked suddenly, running a hand up her arm. The goosebumps only erupted further at his touch.

"A little bit, yeah," she lied. "I think I'm going to go take a hot bath and then go fix dinner."

Troy nodded, smiling slightly. "Thank you so much, again," he laughed. "I don't ever think I'll stop saying that."

His eyes fell on her's again and the word Taylor had used to describe the way he had looked at her that morning ran through her head.

Mamihlapinatapei.

It was there. Taylor hadn't been crazy. Gabriella had felt it, too.

But when Troy bent down and pressed his warm lips to her smooth cheek, she felt herself burst somewhere inside of her and it all made sense. As he pulled back, his eyes still looking in her own, she bit her lip as the realization of what the last two months with him had done to her hit her fully, head on.

Despite everything that had transpired between them in the past, despite the fact that this time last year she had been in love with Edward, it was plain and it was simple and it was true, and most of all, it didn't scare her. The notion or the fact. She accepted it and part of her reveled in it.

That she, Gabriella Montez, was falling in love with Troy Bolton.

---

I meant to have this up much, much sooner (like, four days ago), but truth be told, I was not in the mindset to write it. This is a very important chapter to me for many reasons and I didn't want to butcher cause I wrote it out of obligation whilst in a bad mood.

But then this weekend was quite nice (worked alot, reconnected with an old friend and those Z&V candids~) so I was in a much better mindset today. I promised I would get it up by midnight and low and behold, I did!

Thanks for the continued support and don't forget this chapter's track, as always. This has become my theme song for the story and I have listened to it so many times that it'll pain me if you don't take a listen. Even more so than not reading would. :)


	11. The Romantic

---

**Mamihlapinatepei**

Yaghan, noun: a look shared between two people with each wishing the other will initiate something that which both desire, but neither wants to start.

---

"You need to get her out of the house for a few hours."

His words were frantic, desperate. He needed Gabriella out of the house and he needed her out now. He glanced at the clock. It was already eleven o'clock. Oh, fuck, he was screwed. He was expecting them at twelve. He needed her to leave and he needed her to leave now.

Jason rolled his eyes and adjusted his viking helmet on his head. It was a Thursday and this of course meant that Jason was hung over. Jason, was like many people, a firm believer in celebrating hump day, so every Wednesday evening he went to the bars and got smashed and every Thursday he'd call in sick to work. His employer just stopped giving him shifts on Thursdays after a while, which suited Jason just fine. He wouldn't have come in anyways.

"Why don't you just tell her, man?" he asked, wincing as his head throbbed. "I mean, that way you don't have to go to all of this trouble and all this sneaking around and bullshit."

Troy was bouncing on his heels, tapping his foot anxiously. "Jason, no, I want to do this and I am going to continue doing it as I have been for the last three weeks. Now stop being an asshole and help me think of something!"

Jason leaned back in his chair and scoffed. "No, man, I don't want to think. I can't think."

"Fuck you for getting drunk all the time!" Troy exclaimed, exasperated. "You need to think, please man, I have never needed help so much in my entire life."

Rolling his eyes once again, Jason pressed his head to the table. "Troy, I am hungover. Why don't you please go bother someone else?"

"Because!" he near shouted, "No one else is home but you and Gabriella! You're my last resort!"

"Thanks," Jason huffed.

"Well, look at you!" Troy said, reaching over and yanking off Jason's helmet. "You're positively useless!"

"I am not useless!" Jason said, sounding appalled. "I just like to party!"

Troy pressed a hand to his forehead. He was starting to understand how Chad felt. "That makes you useless. Seriously, you can't think of any excuse?"

"Nope," Jason said, his words muffled as he rolled over face first on the table.

"But why?" Troy asked, exasperated. "You're the king of excuses!"

"Two words," Jason said, holding out his hand. "Hung. Over. Now give me back my helmet."

Troy sighed, dropping it back on Jason's head. He was going to get no help, clearly. He glanced at the clock again, anxiously. It was already eleven fifteen. What the hell was he going to do?

Of course, he could make up same lame excuse when it all arrived, but that would be so lame and he had gotten so far without her suspecting much. This would ruin everything.

"Hey, man?" Jason's voice came and Troy broke away from staring at the clock to look at him. "You okay?"

"No!" Troy sighed. "I'm obviously not!"

Jason blinked slowly, finally fully comprehending the situation. "She's really gotten under your skin, hasn't she?"

Troy looked up at him, startled at his observation. "Normally that would go right over your head," he said, running a hand through his hair.

"Man, this is obvious, though," Jason said, sitting up fully. "You guys have been hanging out more. You're going to all of this trouble just so she won't move out. How could I not notice?"

"She can't move out, Jason," Troy said quietly. "She can't."

Furrowing his brows, the dark haired man looked at his friend, concerned. "Why?"

Troy let out another sigh. "Because if she moves out, there's no chance I'll ever really talk to her again. She'll move on, she'll meet new people. There's nothing that will hold her to us anymore."

"You mean you," Jason said bluntly. Troy's head snapped up again.

"Yeah," he swallowed. "I mean me. And I...I don't think I could handle that, not after all this time. Not after everything that's happened."

"All this time?" Jason mused. "Are you saying...do you...did you have feelings for Gabriella?"

Troy looked down and didn't say anything, but his silence spoke volumes for him. Suddenly Jason understood.

"So that's why this is so important. So that's why you're so uptight about me not helping you think of an excuse."

"Yes, you idiot!" Troy said, snapping out of his thoughts. "You suck, I can't even begin to explain! You're leaving your friend in need!"

"Uh oh," a feminine voice said. "What did Jason do now?"

Gabriella appeared in the kitchen, smiling brightly and dressed in a soft, yellow sundress, her hair down in waves. Troy melted.

"He's being a bad friend," he said, hoping she would just accept it for what it was and move on.

"Oh?" she said, raising her eyebrows. "How so?"

Troy and Jason looked at each other quickly. It was go time and they had nothing. Shit, shit, shit.

"Because Jeff needs help!" Jason suddenly exclaimed and Troy had to stop himself from slapping his forehead in frustration.

"Jeff needs help?" Gabriella asked slowly and both the men nodded. "With what exactly?"

"Getting Annabel!" Jason proclaimed again, grasping at straws. "He needs help with a lot of things, but mostly just this!"

"Yes, this is true!" Troy stammered. "And um, they're both working today so he needs someone to go over there and casually mention how awesome he is!"

"And I can't do it because I'm hungover!" Jason filled in. "So, Troy here was going to go and pick up an ink cartridge cause he's out anyways, but he can't because he's, um..."

"Editing!" Troy picked up. "Editing, the photos we took, um I need to get them sent to a client as an example of my work! For the, uh, job I'm applying for, remember?"

She nodded slowly. "Okay..."

"So we're both being terribly friends," Jason explained. "And we really, really need someone to go there and do this for Jeff. Before twelve o'clock. Because he's desperate. Because he's jeff."

Gabriella laughed. "I can do it, I don't have anything better to do."

"You can?" Troy said, almost too excitedly. "I mean, you can?"

She glanced around the room, slightly confused. "Well, yeah. What kind of ink did you need?"

"Um," Troy tried to think of what could possibly be low on his printer. "CMYK. For my Phaser. That's the one. Um, here, let me write it down." He grabbed a piece of paper off the counter and wrote down the initials quickly before ripping it off and handing out to her. "Just incase you forget."

She took the piece of paper from him, their fingers brushing. "I think I can remember four letters."

"Yeah, well," Troy shrugged, his fingers tingling from her touch. Was it just him or had she held on a little bit longer? "Just incase."

She smiled, before turning to walk up the stairs to grab her purse. "Always so thoughtful, Bolton," she gave him a wink before leaving and he stared after her, completely taken in by her brief presence.

"You are a sap, Troy," Jason declared from his spot at the kitchen table. Troy glared and whacked him in the head.

"Hey! I just helped you out and that's what I get in return!" Jason held his throbbing head. "I have hangover!"

"And I am well aware of this fact," Troy said with a smirk as he sauntered out of the kitchen. "Saving my ass at the last minute doesn't count."

With that, he walked back upstairs to Edward's room, making sure Gabriella wasn't in the vicinity. He still had so much to do.

---

Since coming upon the realization that she was falling in love with Troy, Gabriella's world was upside down. For a good hour she had pondered over how she was to act around him. It was such a precarious situation, one she certainly never would have thought herself in. She would have never even considered falling in love with one of Edward's friends, nevermind Troy. But she had and she was and as scary as it was, it was wonderful all at once.

Suddenly his touch brought more sparks and heat to her body. When his eyes would linger on hers just a moment longer, she felt a calm come over her like never before. Everything was brighter, softer, happier. Only one question remained and that was whether or not Troy felt the same way.

She wanted to believe that he did. That all of the things he had done for her meant something. They didn't mean nothing, this she knew for certain, but it was hard for her to differentiate between what was meant romantically, lovingly and what was Troy being just a nice guy. Considering she had only really gotten to know him in the last two months, she couldn't really be sure.

Maybe this in itself should have alarmed her. She could even recognize when something he did meant something and when it didn't. But wasn't this the same with all males? Didn't women encounter with a constant guessing game surrounding their emotions and motives almost everyday? With Edward it had been so easy: he had made it clear that he was interested from the start. But his love for her hadn't been deep, so she couldn't base it off of that.

Needless to say, Gabriella was experiencing boy trouble and relationship drama that she had thought she had done away with in high school. Leave it to her dead ex-fiancee's best friend to make her feel like a kid.

But that was just one of the many things that Troy did for her. He brought her back to the carefree inner child that she had long go forgotten existed. He gave her hope and comfort in areas she hadn't before considered. He was amazing and really, when she thought about it, there was no question as to why she fell in love with him.

Now all she had to do was figure out what she was going to do with these feelings. But for now, she was going to find this stupid ink cartridge refill kiosk and do the dirty work that both Troy and Jason had bailed on.

Wandering through the mall, she finally found it, nestled in the centre of the walkway in between the H&M and Abercrombie. She furrowed her brows. What an odd place to stick an ink cartridge refill center.

There they were, she thought as she approached. Jeff, standing awkwardly to the side refilling a cartridge as Annabel stood at the counter, scribbling something on a pad of paper. She was the same as Gabriella remembered her, her shocking red hair cropped short and she wore a bright graphic tank top, a green floral print skinny jeans and a black cardigan. What stood out most about her was the gold framed sunglasses that sat upon her nose. Jeff hadn't lied. She wore them indoors.

"Hi!" Gabriella said brightly as she approached the counter. "I'm Gabriella Montez! We met at the barbeque a couple of weeks ago?"

"Oh! Hey!" Annabel said just as brightly. "It's good to see you again!" She dropped her pen and Gabriella's eyes fell onto the pad of paper she had been writing on. Turns out she hadn't been writing at all. She was sketching robots.

"Gabriella?" Jeff's confused voice came from the other side. "What are you doing here?"

Gabriella winked coyly at him. "Troy needed a refill for his printer, but he's caught up doing...doing something and Jason is hung over. So I volunteered to come help him out." She gave another wink and Jeff raised an eyebrow.

"Wait a sec, what time is it?" he asked, glancing at his watch. "Oh. Twelve thirty. Well, that explains everything."

"What do you mean?" Now it was Gabriella's turn to be confused.

"Nothing, nothing!" Jeff said, waving her off. "So you needed what exactly?"

Gabriella held out the piece of paper to him. "A CMYK ink cartridge. For a Phaser printer? I don't even know."

Jeff nodded. "Could have sworn he just got these refilled like a week ago."

"What?" Gabriella was feeling more confused by the second.

"Nothing, nothing!" Jeff said. "This'll be ready in a sec. Can you ring her up now, Annabel?"

The red head nodded, looking just as confused as Gabriella. "You're so weird, Jeff," she said with a smile.

"Oh, he's not that weird," Gabriella said, trying to remain inconspicuous. "Just, you know, different."

"Well, it's okay, either way," Annabel said, hitting a few keys on the cash register. "I'm weird, too."

Gabriella smiled, biting her lip slightly. "May I ask why you're wearing the sunglasses inside? Isn't it hard to see? Or is it a fashion statement?"

Annabel shook her head. "They help me to think better."

"Oh," Gabriella said, acting like she understood. She didn't. "I see."

"I call them my sunnies," Annabel explained. "I have four pairs. A yellow pair, they're like, these huge bug sunglasses, a black and blue striped pair of Wayfarers and this real rad pair that had a red frame...I can't explain them. I have one for every occasion and mood. These are my Elvis shades and they are the most special."

"Why is that?" Gabriella asked. The girl was certainly something. "A big Elvis fan?"

"Well, I do enjoy his music, but not quite." Annabel laughed. "Kay, well, I am a huge movie buff. Like, to the point where it's almost absurd. I own nearly six hundred DVDs. Anyways, there's this one movie, 'True Romance' and it's one of my absolute favourites, but that's not really saying a lot. And this character, Clarence Worley, played by Christian Slater, wore Elvis Shades, too."

"Ah," Gabriella said. This girl was a perfect match for Jeff and it was becoming glaringly obvious.

"So I decided I had to have them. I ended up buying these on E-Bay," she sighed. "These are my babies."

Gabriella laughed. "You know, you should come over for dinner tomorrow night, you are a lot of fun. I tend to do all of the cooking now a days and I'm sure Jeff would love it."

To Gabriella's surprise, Annabel blushed. "You think?" she asked. "He doesn't seem to like me very much. Aside from when he asked me to the barbeque, he barely talks to me."

"Oh, trust me!" Gabriella mentally slapped Jeff. She knew he was doing this all wrong! "He would love it! You could bring this movie, the romance one, too! We could make a night out of it, the guys won't mind."

"Well, why not?" Annabel said cheerfully. "Most days I just chill with my best friend and roommate Holly, but she's a writer, so she can be insufferable sometimes. It'll be good to get out of the house for a few hours."

"Alright, then," Gabriella said, a wide smile on her face. "Any food preferences?"

"I don't like pizza," she said quickly and then laughed at Gabriella's shocked expression. "I know, I know."

"Never met anyone who didn't like pizza," Gabriella said, laughing along with her. "What's my total, by the way? And I'll need a receipt, I hope Troy doesn't think I'm paying for this."

Annabel finished ringing Gabriella up and Jeff emerged from the other side of the kiosk a moment later. "Here you go, Gabriella," he said, handing her a bag. "He won't run out of ink for ages now."

Gabriella took the bag and frowned. What the heck was he going on about? "Okay, then," her frowned turned into a smile. "Annabel's coming over for dinner tomorrow night. And then we're going to watch 'True Romance'."

Jeff's eyes doubled in size. "What? I mean, that's great, but, um..."

"What, did you not want me to come?" Annabel said, looking a little hurt. "Because I totally understand if I'm intruding."

"No, no!" Jeff said frantically. "I think it's awesome that you're coming! I, I can't wait!"

Annabel broke into a smile. "Okay, then!"

Jeff shot Gabriella a thankful look and she shrugged. "Alright, I'm off then! See you at home Jeff and see you at dinner tomorrow, Annabel!"

"Wait!" Jeff cried out and Gabriella and Annabel exchanged a look at his outburst. He glanced at the clock. It was only a quarter to one. "Maybe you should go shopping for a while. Go kill sometime."

"But why?" Gabriella asked.

"There's a great sale at Aldo. You should go treat yourself," Jeff sputtered and Annabel nodded.

"Oh, yes, all of their sandals are like, cut in half price wise," she clamored. "And H&M has a bunch of stuff reduced, too. You should totally go check it out."

Gabriella stopped to consider this. She hadn't gone shopping in so long. What could it hurt? "Yeah, sure, why not?" She smiled. "I should do something for myself."

"That's the spirit!" Jeff said, shooting her a thumbs up sign. Laughing to herself, Gabriella left as Annabel went back to her robots and Jeff went back to awkwardly shooting glances at her.

Oh, love.

---

"Hey, can I come in?"

Troy's voice was muffled through the closed door of his room and Gabriella swung her legs off the side of his bed where she was currently settled, reading a book. "It's your room!" she called out to him. "Of course you can come in!"

The door opened a moment later and she was greeted with a nervous looking Troy, his hair covered by his beanie and dressed in a pair of grey jeans and a blue t-shirt. He smiled bashfully at her as he closed the door behind him. "I just wanted to make sure you were decent, is all."

She nodded, setting her book down beside her. "Thank you for that," she said, "Some men wouldn't even consider it."

"Yeah, well..." Troy trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. "Are you busy right now? Oh," he paused, catching sight of her book. "You're reading. You are busy. I'll come back later."

"Troy!" Gabriella didn't want him to leave just yet. Why did he seem so nervous? "It's a book, it's not going to change if I abandon it for a while. What is it?"

He swallowed, eyes darting around the room. "Um, I have something to show you."

She raised an eyebrow when he didn't elaborate. "You do?" she asked slowly, making sure she was on the same page as him. He was acting awfully funny.

He nodded quickly. "Yep," he swallowed again. "I do. And if you're not busy, would you perhaps like to come see it?"

Standing up, she walked over to the door and opened it. "Lead the way," she said softly, gesturing for him to step out of the room ahead of her.

"Is it downstairs?" she asked, wondering what he could possibly have to show her that would get him in such a tizzy. She began to walk towards the staircase, but his fingers caught hers and pulled her backwards down the hall.

"No, it's um," he closed his eyes. "I wanted you to see Edward's old room. I've finished renovating it."

She stopped walking, thoroughly confused. "I thought you weren't renovating it," she said skeptically. "You said it was going to be a storage room."

"Yeah, it is," Troy said, walking down the hall, his hand on the doorknob to Edward's room. "But since you helped with the paint job, I just decided I wanted you to see the finished product."

She furrowed her brows. What was he up to? "Okay..." she said, coming to stand beside him. He opened the door and gestured for her to go inside.

"Ladies first."

Stepping into the room, Gabriella gasped. He had lied.

The walls were still the pale green she had picked out, but it was certainly no storage room. There was a double bed against one of the walls, the frame a dark wood stained black and the headboard covered in black fabric. A white comforter with black flowers was spread across the bed with several colourful throw pillows sitting on top. A small black nightstand was beside it with a white porcelain lamp sitting on top next to an alarm clock and a vase of lavender roses.

A desk was on the other side of the room, her laptop placed on the top. She wondered briefly why she hadn't noticed it was missing from his room earlier. Over top on the wall were several black and white photographs of flowers; the ones he had taken in the garden that day. Next to the desk was a tall bookshelf, empty aside from one novel.

Trembling slightly, she walked closer into the room and over to the bookshelf, picking the book up. She gasped upon seeing the cover.

The Virgin Suicides.

She turned to him slowly, one hand clutching the book and the other over her mouth. He was standing there, bashfully, his hands in his pockets observing her. Slowly removing her shaking hand, she swallowed harshly and spoke.

"This isn't a storage room," she said bluntly and Troy laughed.

"No, it's not," he said with a weak smile. "This is a proposition. An offer."

"An offer?" she said, her voice cracking. "What do you—"

"You've been here for two months now, Gabriella," Troy began, coming to stand in front of her. "And in those two months, you have become a friend to all of us and to me especially. I know you think you should move out because you feel like you're taking advantage of us, but you're not. And I know part of that has to do with the fact that I'm still sleeping on the couch."

She looked down, tears clouding her vision. "Yes, well, it looks awfully uncomfortable —"

"And I chose to take it because I want to see you comfortable, happy," he swallowed, bringing his hands up to graze over her arms. His fingers ran up and down gently as he continued. "The thing is Gabriella, and this is selfish of me, but I don't care. I don't want you to leave. I...I need you to stay."

Her breath caught in her throat and her heart speed up. He didn't want her to leave. She knew this, but she hearing the desperation in his voice took it to an entirely different level. Did this mean? Could it be?

"So if you want," he looked up into her watery eyes, surprised to see the tears lingering there. "If you want this room is yours. You can take your stuff out of storage that you want and you can stay here. You can live here if you want. I've talked it over with the guys and they all want you to stay. Maybe not as much as I do, because I really, really do but...please don't leave."

She didn't say anything, but instead pressed her fingers to her lips as they trembled. He had redecorated the room for her. He had given her a place to stay. He was offering her a home. She felt the tears slide down her cheeks as the emotions overwhelmed her. God, this man was amazing.

"Oh, shit, Gabriella!" Troy said, sounding panicked. The pad of his thumb caught the tears as they fell from her eyes. "Please don't cry! I um, if you don't want the room, I understand! You can move out, we'll still be friends! And if you want to stay here, but it's too weird, cause you know, it was Edward's old room, I can stay here! I just figured you'd want your own space and you did pick the colour, but I like it, too, so that's okay!"

She felt herself laugh and she gave into the urge she had been holding back and threw her arms around him, squeezing him tightly. His speech was cut off and he carefully brought his arms up to wrap around her.

"Thank you," she whispered into his ear. "Thank you so, so much." She let go of him and skipped across the room, running her hands over the furniture and other belongings. She felt like a giddy child.

Sitting on the bed, which was now her bed, she flopped down. "How did you do all of this? How did I not know?"

Troy shrugged, leaning against the desk. "Oh, you know, I did it when you weren't home. I had Taylor help with a lot of the prints and stuff, I don't know much about what girls like and my skills with colour from photography only went so far. Chad ordered the stuff last week and then thankfully, I came up with the excuse to go get the ink cartridge to get you out of the house for a few hours. It worked like a charm."

"I can't believe this," she sat up, looking around the room. "I can't believe you did this. You are the most incredible man I know."

Troy flushed and ducked his head. "Uh, I don't know about that."

"No, you are," she said again, staring at him. "So few people would do this for anyone, especially someone like me after I had been so awful to you. I cannot believe you did this."

"There's one thing, though," Troy said carefully, quietly. He walked over to the closet and opened the door, emerging a second later with a box in his hands. Stepping over to her, he took a deep breath and held it out to her.

"What is this?" she asked curiously. She stood and opened the flaps of the box, taking a look inside. The box held were four books, a baseball and two button down shirts. She furrowed her brows.

He let out another breath, setting the box down on the ground between them. Adjusting the beanie on his head awkwardly, he nudged it with his toe. "This is a box of Ed's old stuff. It was what I salvaged from the wreck in here after you totally trashed it," he grinned when he saw her smile at the memory, glad it was no longer a taboo. "And the thing is, it didn't feel fair to me to just throw it out without giving you any input on whether you wanted it."

"I know that sounds of absurd," he said, beginning to babble, "but despite everything that happened, at one time you loved Edward and he is gone now and you were engaged, for Christ's sake so..." he sighed, "It just seemed right. So, you can decide what to do with it. Whether you want to keep it or put it in storage or throw it in a wood-chipper, your decision."

Gabriella didn't say anything for a moment, bending down to look through the belongings. The feeling she had anticipated upon seeing Edward's old things didn't come; instead she felt nothing. It was a part of her past, a bad one at that, so why did she want to dwell on it. The feeling of nothingness calmed her immensely and dropping one of the books back into the box, she flipped it shut and picked it up.

"I think I know just what to do with it," she declared and marched to the other side of the room. She opened the doors leading outside to the balcony and stepped outside, the cool night air hitting her skin. Troy quickly followed behind her.

"Gabriella, what the heck are you doing?" he asked, sounding slightly alarmed, but she shook her head, smiling brightly.

"Troy!" she said with a laugh. "Calm down!" With that, she held the box over the side of the balcony's rail and let it slip from her fingers. It fell down to the first story, landing on the porch roof and bouncing off to fall onto the pathway to the front door with a loud thump and a smash.

"Whoops!" she said, laughing and Troy couldn't help himself. He joined her, elated at the sound of her infectious giggles. She hadn't broken down upon seeing it. She hadn't cried. She had simply thrown it over the side of the balcony and that was that.

"Oh!" she said, still laughing. "That felt so good! So, so good!"

Troy walked over and looked over the side of the balcony, down to where the box lay overturned. "I can't believe you just did that."

"I'm kind of destructive with his things, I don't know if you remember," she said with a smile, coming to stand beside him. "My god, Troy Bolton," she said, hugging him again, "You given me a home and a bit of closure all in one night. You are more than incredible."

"Would you stop saying that," Troy said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You're making me blush."

"That's fine by me," she said, lifting her head and inspecting the red flush across his cheeks. "You're adorable when you blush."

"Hey!" he said indignantly. "I am a man. I am not adorable."

She giggled and tapped him on the nose. "Oh, Troy Bolton, but you are." She stepped up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "And you're amazing. I don't know how I'm ever going to repay you."

Breaking away from him, she continued to explore the room, feeling giddy and elated. She flipped open the lid of her laptop and smiled when it came out of sleep mode and she quickly accessed her playlist. She couldn't believe he had done all this. Swiping at the tears that still lingered on her cheeks, she skimmed at the songs, searching for the perfect one. Finally, she found it and clicked play, turning to him and smiling as the soft melody and lyrics spilled into the room.

"_You've always been bashful, you're just that way, but your eyes are like billboards; they give you away_," the female voice sang softly and Gabriella laughed inwardly. The lyrics fit Troy to a tee. Glancing over him, she saw him shift almost awkwardly, giving her a nervous smile and her heart tripped over itself at the sight.

God, she just wanted to be close to him right now. She just wanted to hold him and kiss him and tell him everything she had been feeling in the last few days, everything she had been feeling in the last few minutes when he presented her with the room. How could he have gone to so much trouble for her? "Dance with me," she said softly, extending her hand to him. Looking at her, he felt a jolt run through him, the memory of when she had said the same thing to Edward all those years ago. He shook his head.

"I don't dance, Gabriella," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

She laughed. "Oh, come on, everyone dances!" she reached over and grabbed his hand, pulling him closer to her. A soft magenta blush was pooling on her eyes and her brown eyes were dancing. How could he deny her.

"I'm not kidding, though," he insisted, looking down at his feet. "I'm really, really uncoordinated."

She stepped even closer, removing the gap between them. "We're not going to waltz or anything Troy. All you have to do," she said slowly, bringing his hands to rest on her waist, "is hold me."

She brought her hands up to rest around his neck and she leaned against him, resting her head against his shoulder. His hands moved tentatively around her waist, moving to grip her hips and pull her even closer against him. She fit so perfectly against him.

"_And your chest's a fine pillow with lining of feather. Your hair is a family whose strands stick together. Your fingers are keys from the grandest piano played by a mind that the Lord only knows."_

"Now what?" he asked hesitantly and carefully, slowly, she began to sway, moving him along with her.

"Now nothing," she whispered. "Now we just dance."

It was exactly the same as when she danced with Edward yet completely different. They had spoken the same dialogue, but everything was so much more intense. She felt her heart beat against her ribcage in excited anticipation and his fingers were burning through her clothes onto her skin. She felt so warm, safe and comfortable. Troy had been invoking these feelings into her for weeks now. This feeling that she felt like she was floating and was never going to touch the ground again, yet she was perfectly fine with it.

She relaxed in his hold as they swayed gently in a circle. He wasn't kidding; he was a terribly dancer, eyes falling to his feet every other second to make sure that he wasn't stepping on her toes. But he held her against him so gently and yet so tightly that it didn't matter. His familiar scent of sandalwood clung to him and she let her hand trail up to touch the strands of soft hair at the back of his neck. God, he was wonderful.

"I've gotta admit," he said softly, his head buried into her hair, "I've never done his before."

"Done what?" she whispered against his shoulder, feeling her eyes slip closed as the music played on. "Danced spontaneously?"

He chuckled and she felt the vibrations of his laugh against her cheek. "Well, yes," he paused, "But...I don't know. I feel like a teenager right now."

She smiled. "I know the feeling," she lifted her head off of his shoulder then and looked up at him, startled when she saw the look in his eyes.

Something in the air crackled between them, then. Something snapped. It was subtle, but it was there and there was no doubt in her mind that they had both felt it. Troy's thumbs drew lazy circles on her hips and she caressed the smooth skin on his neck. His eyes were hazy, glossed over with happiness and something else and his lips were upturned in a soft smile.

"See?" she said, playing with the strands of hair at the back of his neck. "This isn't so bad."

"With you, it most certainly isn't," he responded and his eyes connected with hers. She felt her mouth grow dry at the look in them.

It was there, the same feeling she had been harboring for him. It wasn't just lying beneath the surface of his eyes anymore, it was dancing on the tops, skimming through the irises and . He felt the same way. She had known it for a while now, she realized, but she had never really paid attention to it. now that she was, she felt her heart flutter at the notion.

What was going to happen now? Would he confess? Should she? Words tumbled over each other in her mind as she tried desperately to string a sentence together that would explain everything she was feeling, but her tongue felt numb and twisted.

Then his lips captured hers in a sweet kiss and her mind went blank.

Shock absorbed her body as his lips moved against hers. It was soft, slow, brief and gentle, everything you could possibly want in a first kiss. She felt her heart skip nearly a hundred beats and flutter rapidly He pulled back slowly, opening his eyes carefully to gauge her reaction. Maybe he had overstepped his bounds, maybe he had read her wrong. But the hand still playing with the back of his hair and the way her eyes were shining up at him told him otherwise, and he swept down once more and pressed his lips to hers again.

This time it was more heated, their lips gliding across one another's vigorously. For Gabriella, it was letting herself fall harder than she had anticipated. For Troy, it was what he had wanted for nearly three years.

He pecked her lips three times gently before leaning down and burying his face in her neck. She let her arms fall down to his waist and she hugged him tightly, resting her cheek against his shoulder.

"Does this mean you won't move out?" he asked quietly, pressing a kiss to her neck. "Is this enough for you to stay?"

She lifted her head as he lifted his and she brought a hand to his cheek, running her fingers over his features gently. As hard as she tried to hold them back, tears pricked her eyes as she smiled.

"It's more than enough, Troy," she whispered as he leaned into her touch. "It's everything."

With those words he grinned brightly and picked her up, swinging her around in small circles as he laughed. "Oh god," he murmured as he set her down. He pressed his lips to her cheeks, her forehead, her jaw and nose, unable to comprehend that this was actually happening. "I can't believe this. You have no idea how happy you've made me."

She laughed with him, closing her eyes and pressing her lips against his once again. She felt his tongue gently graze her lips and she granted him entrance, savoring his sweet taste. After several moments, he pulled back and grinned at her, running his hand over his head and yanking off his beanie.

"What are you—" Gabriella began, but before she could finish her question, Troy had taken his beanie and pulled it over her head, covering her eyes. She sputtered and lifted it so she could see. The sight that greeted her made her heart flip; Troy laughing and smiling, eyes shimmering with mirth. He leaned forward and kissed her on the nose, making his way down to her lips.

"I always thought my hat would look better on you."

--

Oh, happy days~ Fun times are ahead for the next couple of chapters! :D

There's not one, but two tracks for this chapter. One from Troy's perspective and the song they dance to. I have listened to both such a ridiculous amount of times that I will be fifty-nine and iPods will no longer exist and I will hear them on some high-tech radio during retro hour and still think of this fic.

I always think I'll never make word count. And then I exceed it. Oh, life.


	12. The Lover

---

**Mamihlapinatapei**

Yaghan, noun: a look shared between two people with each wishing the other will initiate something that which both desire, but neither wants to start.

---

She woke up the next morning curled up in bed, the scent of sandalwood overpowering her senses. This was nothing new. She had been waking to that scent for nearly two months, for no matter what she did, Troy still clung to his sheets.

However, the warm body next to her and the arm around her waist were a change.

Gabriella snuggled closer to Troy who was still fast asleep, his breathing even and steady. She willed her eyes to stay shut as she tucked her head into the crook underneath his chin and pressed a kiss to the hollow of his neck, hoping not to wake him. His hand on her waist tightened right after and she knew that she had failed, and that he was now fighting consciousness, too, but didn't open her eyes.

This was so wonderful, she thought to herself, loving the feel of his cotton t-shirt underneath her cheek. He was so warm and comfortable and she felt so, so safe and so, so happy.

After the many kisses they had shared last night, many more were exchanged and the two danced around the room to a variation of music, laughing and goofing off. Around midnight, they tumbled into Gabriella's bed, their limbs intertwining as sleep overcame them. Now, waking, Gabriella certainly felt like she could get used to this.

She felt Troy's lips ghost against her hair and she squirmed. She was so comfortable, but reality held him and frankly, she'd rather be there than in dream world. Her heart clenched at the information. For the first time in months, her reality was better. She was so happy she could cry.

Opening her eyes slowly, she shifted and scooted away from Troy to get a good look at him. Maybe he _was_ still sleeping. As luck would have it, he was awake and watching her, his fingers drawing circles on her hip now. He smiled at her.

"Good morning," he said softly and she smiled back at him.

"Good morning," she said, raising her hand to run across his cheek. His eyes fluttered shut at her touch and she leaned forward, kissing his lips gently, marveling at the shocks that ran through her system as he reciprocated the gesture.

She felt giddy, like a teenager. Troy had felt the same way she did. Somewhere along the line, she had started falling in love with him and he with her. It felt _so_ wonderful and so right and she was basking in the feel of his lips against hers. He pulled back, running his tongue across his lips, savoring her taste.

"I'm never going to want to wake up any other way, now," he said softly as he dragged her to rest against him. "That was much too nice."

"Hmm," she cooed, leaning up to kiss him again. "I have to agree." He met her halfway and their lips connected softly, still testing the waters.

"We should probably talk about this," she said in between kisses, sighing as he began attacking her neck with his mouth, her eyes fluttering closed. "I mean, a lot has happened in the last twelve or so hours."

"We probably should," he agreed, "and we will. But first," he kissed his way back up to her jaw, "first we finish this and then we have breakfast."

"That sounds nice," she said, turning so her lips grazed his. "That sounds amazing. I wonder if anyone else is up yet."

Suddenly, her eyes snapped open and she pushed Troy off of her. He stared back at her in confusion.

"What?" he asked, blinking. She jumped out of bed, dragging the sheets off of him. "What?" Please don't let her suddenly be regretting this, he thought.

"You have to get back downstairs!" she said, rushing towards the door. "You're supposed to be on the couch! What are we going to do if the others wake up and discover you're not there?"

"Gabriella," Troy said, laughing slightly as he wrapped his arms around her. He pecked her lips gently. "They guys know I was showing you the room last night. They wouldn't expect to see me on the couch."

"Still!" She said quickly. "You have to go back to your room, then! They can't see you coming of my room!"

He frowned, feeling his heart fall slightly. "Why? Did, you, um...is this?" He swallowed. He really hoped she didn't think of this as a one night stand kind of thing. "Did you want to keep this a secret?"

Gabriella's eyes grew wide, upset that he had thought that was what she had insinuated. "No!" she yelped. "Of course not! But last night, all we did was kiss and if you're seen coming out of my room...there's no way they'll believe that." She came and stood in front of Troy, bring her hands up to rest around his neck. "I want to take this slow, Troy, I really do. I...I really care about you and I don't want to ruin all this by having people misconstrue my feelings for you. And knowing your—our—housemates, they most certainly will."

She let her hands drop and grabbed one of his, holding it tightly. She began to drag him towards the door, her hand on the knob. He clutched her hand, enlacing their fingers as she poked her head out the door. The hallway was clear. Pulling it wide open, Troy leaned in the door way, pulling her against him.

"You have feelings for me?" he asked, grinning excitedly. This was really happening, he thought as a soft blush spread across her cheeks.

"Well, yes," she said, fiddling with a lose string on his shirt. "I thought that was obvious."

"Is it obvious that I have feelings for you, too?" Troy asked, nuzzling his nose against hers. "Cause I hope it is."

Gabriella giggled, feeling ticklish at his touch. "Maybe just a little."

With that, Troy swooped down and captured her lips with his once more, kissing her zealously. He pressed her against the other side of the doorframe, her back making a small thump upon contact. Her hands dug into his hair, running through the soft strands and his came to grip her hips, pulling her pelvis against his. She kissed him back eagerly and he couldn't help but feel that he moment was just so perfect.

So of course it got ruined.

"Holy shit!" The pair broke apart at the loud exclamation, startled to see Jason standing there, viking helmet on his head. Troy wiped at his mouth with the back of her hand and Gabriella quickly began rearranging her hair.

"Jason!" Troy said, trying to play it cool, like he hadn't just been caught making out with Gabriella like a teenager. "What are you doing up so early?"

Jason gaped at him, his mouth open like a fish. "I just got home! It was two for one night at The Corale!" He looked between the two of them, smirking slowly. "Oh my god, you guys totally just made out."

"What in the hell? What's all this commotion?" Another voice said, and Jeff appeared around the corner, a coffee mug in his hand. "Did you just said someone made out?"

Jason nodded excitedly. "Yeah! Those two!" he pointed at Troy and Gabriella, who were standing awkwardly in the door to Gabriella's room.

Jeff's eyes double in size. "No way. No way, no way, no way. Who would have thought. Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow!"

"I know!" Jason said with a laugh. "I can't believe you! You should have seen them!"

"Seen who?" Gabriella rolled her eyes upon hearing Chad as he came out of the bathroom across the hall. "What the heck is going on?"

"Troy and Gabriella are together!" Jason all but shouted. "I just saw them making out!"

Jeff looked at them, a smile tugging at his lips. "Wait, are you? Together, I mean? Is this what this is?"

Troy bit his lip, unsure of how to respond. He and Gabriella hadn't even had time to discuss this yet. All that was said was that they had feelings for each other, which was more than enough for him. He didn't want to put a label on it and he really wished he had been smarter and had just left her room entirely. Then they wouldn't be in this mess.

But a moment later, he felt Gabriella snake her small hand into his and enlace their fingers. Giving his hand a squeeze, she spoke up.

"We're, um, we're taking it slow," she said softly, still very flushed. She looked over at Troy and smiled tentatively. "Isn't that right?"

He nodded, elated. "Yeah. Slow." He had waited three years, after all.

Chad gave a whoop of excitement. "It's about damn time!" he said, high-fiving Jeff. "Oh mean, this is amazing!"

But Troy was almost completely oblivious to his friend's excitement, for all that he noticed was the warmth of Gabriella's palm against his.

---

To say that Gabriella was on cloud nine as an understatement. She was glowing, she was floating and she was in love. Well, not in love, love, but she was getting there and she felt whole, more whole and more complete than she had possibly ever felt and it was all thanks to Troy.

Troy, Troy, Troy. God, he was remarkable. She paddled into his bedroom later that afternoon, hoping to get the remainder of her belongings out of his room and into her own. She sighed wistfully. _Her_ room. He had given her her own room.

He had given her so much. She owed him everything.

At the moment, she was currently trying to get her head around what they were, because she knew they were something. She still wasn't quite sure what he wanted, exactly, nor was she sure what she wanted herself, but she was certain that they'd figure it out together.

But first, Annabel was coming over for dinner and Gabriella had to cook. Naturally, there was next to no food in the house, so Troy, being as chivalrous and gallant as ever had offered to go to the grocery store for her on his way to pick up some photos he had had developed. He had taken the list from her and kissed her on the lips briefly, in front of their friends, no less and left. This had caused Gabriella to receive some ridiculous cat-calls, teasing and kissing sounds, but she ignored them. Let them say what she wanted, she was more than absurdly happy.

She had spent the last hour cleaning, making sure things were settled while mentally going through her things at storage to decide what she wanted to put in her new room. For now, though, she needed to get this pile of clothes that were still sitting in her suitcase into the closet and the stack of books off of Troy's night-table.

Might as well do it all at once, she thought with a shrug and bent down and scooped up her clothes that were scattered on the floor by her suitcase and the stack of books, carefully balancing them in her arms. As she turned around, however, her hip bumped his desk, knocking something off of it.

"Oh, shoot!" she exclaimed, setting down her belongings and bending to pick up whatever she had knocked over. "Oh,_ shoot_!"

She had knocked over his portfolio and unfortunately for her, it hadn't been zipped up. Now it was lying face open on the floor. She winced, hoping desperately that the photographs inside weren't ruined.

Picking it up carefully, she flipped if over, figuring there was no harm in at least glancing over them to make sure no damage was done. She wasn't prying that way and she'd put it right back after a quick glance.

And she did just that, quickly glanced at it. But something caught her eye, something she had never thought she'd see in a million years. She paused, sitting down on the floor and bringing the portfolio into her lap. Looking down, she gasped, bringing a hand to her mouth.

Staring back at her was her own face. And it wasn't the shot he had taken the other day.

It was at least a couple of years old, as she still had bangs and no engagement ring was adorning her finger. The shot was of her portfolio, but she could see she was standing in the kitchen, inspecting the label on a beer bottle, her brow crunched in thought. Soft sunlight streamed in from the window and hid her face and Gabriella stared down at the photograph in confusion.

Why did Troy have a photograph of her from two years ago? How had she not seen him taking it?

Feeling brave, but mostly curious, she flipped the page and her heart jumped. There was another photograph of her, this one her looking hopelessly bored as she sat on a lawn-chair in the backyard. She remembered that day. She was supposed to be going out with Edward, but he was late, and to avoid confrontation with Troy, she had sat in the backyard until he was ready. She swallowed thickly and turned the page again.

There was another, this one of her laughing at something Jason was saying, his back to the camera. She flipped to the next page. There she was again, this time holding a bouquet of carnations to her nose. Edward had bought them for her for her birthday. Turning the page again, she found another photograph of herself; this one of her talking animatedly to someone out of the frame, her hands fluttering about her face.

Her heart plummeted to the ground at the next photo. Her face was flushed and there were tears in her eyes, her hands clasped against her mouth. Although it was a portrait shot, she knew what was going on off camera. It was the day Edward had proposed.

The pictures stopped after that, images of flowers and city spaces, landscapes and other models taking her place. The last photograph in the portfolio, however, was the shot he had taken the other day. She leaned back against the leg of his desk, feeling her heart thump rapidly.

What was this? How had Troy taken all of these pictures of her all these years and she had never seen them? Was there more? There had to be more, he never just took one picture. But his portfolio was filled with his best work. With shaky hands she closed the heavy book, confused.

Why had he taken all these photographs? She was with Edward then. What did it mean?

As if on cue, the door opened and Troy stepped in. He was dressed in his usual uniform of a t-shirt and jeans, his beanie on his head. He smiled upon seeing her, his hands tucked behind his back.

"Hey, beautiful," he said, not noticing her shaken expression. "Everything's all set for dinner tonight...what are you doing on the floor?"

She didn't say anything as he came to sit next to her on the floor. "I got these for you," he said, brandishing a bouquet of lavender roses and kissing her on the cheek gently. "Just because you had to go through all of that ribbing from the guys." He paused, finally realizing that something was wrong. "Are you okay?"

Swallowing thickly, she held up the portfolio to him and his eyes doubled in size. "Gabriella, I—"

"I didn't mean to look," she said honestly, "I just hit your desk and it fell and I'm so, so sorry. But what...Troy, there's pictures of me from three years ago. Why are there pictures of me from three years ago?"

Troy sat up, taking the flowers with him and going over to sit on his bed. He let out a heavy sigh, removing the beanie from his head and pulling a hand through his hair. "It's kind of complicated, Gabriella," he whispered. "I didn't exactly want you to find out this way."

"Find out what this way?" Gabriella all but pleaded, abandoning the portfolio and coming to sit next to him on the bed. "Troy...please, I'm...I'm not angry. I just want to know."

He looked into her eyes, trying to find the courage to tell her everything. "Please don't run away after what I tell you," he said desperately, letting his head fall onto her shoulder. "I just got you. I can't lose you now."

Gabriella felt a shiver run through her. "Whatever it is, I'm not going to leave, Troy. I want this, too. Please, don't leave me in the dark. Why are there photos of me?"

Troy let out a deep breath. "My feelings for you haven't exactly just appeared out of no where. They've kind of...been here for a while."

Gabriella wrung her hands together, staring at his profile. "How long?"

"Three years."

She gasped. Three years. That was how long they had known each other. All this time? But she had hated him...she was awful to him. "Does that mean it's been since...since—"

"Yes," he responded firmly. "Since the wedding."

She wrung her hands together tighter. "But how...I don't understand..."

Troy closed his eyes. "I think it'll make the most sense if I tell you why Edward and I fought a year and a half ago. After we got back from L.A."

And with that, he slowly began to explain to her the events that occurred that night after he called her a bitch in the kitchen. She didn't interrupt as he went back to that night, the one that changed everything between he and Edward.

_It had been a long night. Really long. Really, really long. Far too long. It was really fucking long, okay? Troy was seated in front of his iMac in his studio, editing random pictures from the week before when Chad had thrown a neighborhood barbeque. He stared at the subject of the photograph on screen and felt his heart clench almost painfully._

_Wistfully, he ran his fingertip over the person's cheek before realizing what he was doing. Not only was it creepy, but he had left a smudge in it's place. Grabbing the bottle of cleanser from his desk drawer and a paper towel, he sprayed some on the screen and wiped it away. There. All better._

_He could see her clearly now. God, he was pathetic. He needed to get a girlfriend or laid or something. But he knew wouldn't. He was too lovesick._

_Suddenly, the sound of the door clicking open knocked him out of his thoughts. His gaze whirled to the door. "Hey, man," Edward said quietly, stepping into Troy's studio. "What are you doing?"_

_Troy quickly closed the window on his screen, anxiously hoping Edward hadn't seen it. "Nothing!" he all but yelped, "just editing!"_

_Edward nodded, leaning against the wall. "Sounds like fun."_

_Troy shrugged, leaning back in his chair. It was odd, being around Edward now, especially considering he had spat such vicious words at his girlfriend the night before. Even more so was the lingering thoughts of what had transpired on their trip to Los Angeles._

_Edward had been unfaithful to Gabriella and as far as he could tell, she had just forgiven him. How could she have done that? Didn't she understand that she deserved more? That she deserved better? He gritted his teeth in irritation at the situation. God. it was eating him alive._

_The tension had been lingering between he and Edward their return home from Los Angeles two weeks earlier. Troy was able to keep the majority of his frustration under wraps for the most part, but every once in a while, he'd snap harshly at Edward or shoot him a dirty look. He couldn't help it. Edward didn't deserve to have Gabriella fawn over him after what happened. It wasn't only unfair, but it was wrong._

_Still, he closed his eyes and counted to three to stop himself from lashing out at Edward and spun around in his desk chair, looking back at his screen. "Not really," he mumbled. "What's up with you?"_

_Edward looked up at him, folding his arms. "Gabriella and I had a fight."_

_Troy flinched. How wonderful. "Did you now?"_

"_Yeah," Edward let out a sigh. "It was about you, just in case you feel like being guilty about it."_

_Scoffing, Troy turned his attention back to the computer entirely. "No thanks, Ed," he said bitterly. "If one of use should be feeling guilty, I think it should be you."_

_Glaring at him, Edward bit his tongue. "I'm making it up to her, okay, Troy?" he hissed. "So just shut the fuck up and stop trying to get into my business."_

"_I'm not trying to get into your business, Ed," Troy spat. "I'm simply stating the truth. Good for you guys if you're working it out. She deserves a little bit of you, after all."_

"_Look," Edward said, exasperated. "I know you're mad at the whole thing that went down in L.A.," he set his jaw, "But it's irrelevant now. It's a thing of the past and Gabriella and I are working on moving forward."_

"_I don't care," Troy said definitively. "I really, really don't. Do whatever the hell you want Edward. Hurt her day in and day out, whatever. It's none of my business."_

"_Glad you're seeing things my way," Edward looked Troy up and down, noting his tense frame and tried looking eyes. "Everything okay, man? Besides being mad at me and all."_

_Troy sighed. "I'm not mad at you." I'm furious with you, he thought, but continued with his lies. "I'm just surprised at you, is all."_

"_You and me both," Edward said quietly. "Ah forget it, man, this is my soap opera to deal with, not yours." He propped himself off the wall and made his way over to Troy's desk , coming to stand before it. "Let me take a look at whatever it is that you're editing." He reached over Troy's shoulder and went to grab the mouse._

_Edward was never one to respect personal space at the best of times, but this was the worst of times and if he were to see the subject of the photograph Troy was currently editing for no other reason than he really, really wanted to, well, shit was going to hit the fan._

"_No, seriously, man, don't look," Troy protested, trying to knock the mouse from under Edward's grasp. "It's seriously the early stages of editing and it looks like absolute shit right now."_

_Edward laughed. "Dude, when have I ever thought anything you did looked like shit? You could photograph my ugly mug and make it look good. Just let me take a peak."_

"_No!" Troy tried again. "Seriously, i would really, really prefer if you didn't see it."_

_But it was too late, Edward hit the photoshop icon on Troy's dashboard and the page came flying open. Edward shot Troy a cocky grin._

"_Oops," he said with a grin. One that quickly faded when he saw the image on screen._

_The silence that transcended over them made Troy's stomach twist in knots. He held his breath, waiting anxiously for Edward's reaction, knowing that either way, it was not going to be a good one._

_Edward stood back, staring at the computer's screen, not blinking. He swallowed, before letting out a scoff of disbelief before looking at Troy._

"_And what is this?" he asked, slowly, trying to keep his voice even. Beside him, Troy's eyes slid shut in defeat. _

"_It's nothing, honestly," he said, but he knew it was useless. A picture spoke a thousand words._

"_Really?" Edward said, his voice growing louder. "Cause to me, it certainly doesn't look like nothing. So tell me, Troy," his voice was pure venom now. "What is this?"_

_Looking him straight in the eye, meeting his gaze confidently, Troy said without hesitation this time, "It's a picture of Gabriella."_

_There. It was out there, clinging to the air. The words were something he couldn't take back and they spoke volumes. A part of him was relieved; he had been carrying this around for a year and a half, after all. Another part of him felt sick to the core._

_Edward bit his lip, his fingers fisting by his sides. "And why are you editing a picture of Gabriella? One that, judging by the looks of it, you took without her knowing."_

_It was now or never. He could make up some lame excuse, but the way he had been reacting to everything that had occurred the last few weeks made it impossible to lie convincingly. If he was honest, everything would make sense now. But could he do it? Could he hurt Edward?_

_He paused inwardly. But would it be hurting Edward? Obviously the man could not have cared about Gabriella that much given his actions against her. Regardless, it would strain his friendship with Edward, possibly even destroy it. Was it worth it? Was Gabriella worth it?_

_Glancing at her picture on the screen out of the corner of his eye, seeing her smiling face as she talked animatedly to Chad, her hands fluttering about her face he knew._

_She was more than worth it._

"_Tell me now, dammit!" Edward said, his voice low and angry. "Tell me right now!"_

_Troy looked him square in the eye before responding. "Because I'm in love with her."_

_Edward laughed loudly, humorously. "What the fuck, Bolton?" he shouted. "How can you be in love with her? How? All you do is fight! You barely even know her!"_

"_I've been in love with her since I saw her, Edward!" Troy yelled. "Since she walked into the reception hall at that wedding a year and a half ago, I've been in love with her." He pounded his fist on his desk before standing up so he and Edward were equal. "And you knew it, you son of a bitch, you knew I was interested in her. I told you I thought she was gorgeous. I told you that I was going to try and talk to her when she came to sit with us. And you just swooped in and took her as your own."_

"_Who the fuck cares, Troy?" Edward threw his hands up. "She chose me. She loves me."_

"_She does!" Troy admitted, "But you don't deserve her. You're scum, Edward. You slept with another woman in L.A. and you just act like it's no big deal! She doesn't deserve that bullshit!"_

_Edward laughed bitterly again. "How can you even say that? Who are you to decide what she does and doesn't deserve? You don't fucking know her."_

"_Oh, but I do," Troy chuckled darkly. "I know that she's smarter than you give her credit for and I know deep down she knows you're not happy with her. I know that she bits her lip when she's nervous, she does it all of the time when she's talking to you. I know that she blushes when you kiss her on the cheek and I know that she loves talking about her job. I know that she doesn't take her drinks with ice because it hurts her teeth."_

_Edward paused. "What? She doesn't take ice in her drinks?" _

"_No," Troy spat. "I know this from simply observing her. You're supposed to love her and you don't even know. What the fuck does that say about you?"_

"_You know what, Troy?" Edward said suddenly, raising his hands in defeat. "What does it even matter?" He smirked. "Because at the end of the night, I'm the one who gets to fuck her."_

_With that, for the second time in a month, Troy's fist connected with Edward's nose. Blood sputtered from the wound, dripping on the ground in a crimson mess. Troy shook out his hand, his knuckles feeling slightly sore._

"_You are such a bastard, Troy," Edward said, clutching his face in pain. "First you tell me you're in love with my fucking girlfriend and then you punch me?"_

"_And you deserved it," Troy said angrily. "You don't deserve her, you don't even deserve Sharpay, but you deserved that!"_

_Troy felt the air knock out of his lungs as Edward tackled him around the waist, throwing him to the ground. Upon impact, they knocked over one of Troy's lights and he growled in aggravation, feeling Edward's own fist connect with his cheekbone._

"_You son of a bitch!" Edward yelled, forcing his fist against Troy's cheek once more. _

_Ignoring the pain on his face and near his eye, Troy kicked Edward's shin with all the force he could muster and rolled over, pinning the man beneath him. He threw another punch at Edward's face and just as he drew his fist back one more time, the door flung open._

"_What the flying fuck?" Chad's shocked voice came. "What the hell are you guys doing?"_

_In two quick movements, Chad had pried Troy off of Edward and was holding them apart. He glanced at the red marks on Troy's right cheek and the blood still pouring from Edward's nose._

"_Care to explain?" he said harshly, holding them both back by the collars of their shirts. Regardless of their bravado, Chad was always the strongest out of all of them and they knew as much. "Why are you acting like a couple of teenagers?"_

"_We're fighting," Troy said, spitting blood out of his mouth. His lip had split. Dammit. _

_Chad rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I can tell. Why? None of us have resorted to physical blows since college." He paused. "Except for that time Jason was drunk of Valentine's Day a couple of years ago."_

"_Because he's a bastard," Edward said, wiping off some of the blood onto his shirt sleeve. He was quite the sight. Usually, Edward was perfectly dressed and coiffed. Now he was a dirty, rumpled mess. This at least gave Troy the smallest sense of satisfaction._

_Chad narrowed his eyes. "What the hell, Ed?" he said to him, but the dark haired man simply shook his head and wandered out the room._

"_Fuck this bullshit, Bolton," he said, "I'm going to go shower."_

_With that he left and Chad looked at Troy in utter disbelief. "What was that all about?"_

_It was the moment that Troy would look back on and wish he could have over. He had two options: he could tell the truth, revealing Edward's actions in L.A. or he could keep it to himself, like he had been doing. He could tell the half truth and remain the better person, the better friend. He could keep his friend's secret in exchange for one of us own. _

_Sitting back down at his desk, Troy rested his head in his hands, gripping at his hair. He glanced at the screen and saw Gabriella's face, her shining eyes, ones that seems to irrevocably, unconditionally kind. She would never have him because he was not good enough._

"_Troy?" Chad asked cautiously, concerned. _

"_I'm in love with Gabriella," Troy confessed, feeling his being start to break. "I'm in love with her and she's in love with Edward and he knows and that's why we fought." He let out a shaky breath._

_Chad was silent for a moment. "Shit. How...you're...shit." He looked at his best friend, still feeling scared that he looked so broken. "You're in love with Gabriella."_

"_Almost hopelessly," he admitted, his gaze fixed to the floor. When had things become so fucked up? _

"_Wow," Chad said, "Do you want to talk about it?"_

"_Honestly?" Troy smiled weakly, wincing when his lip stung. "No. What I would like, though, is for you to leave."_

"_Are you sure?" Chad didn't want to leave Troy right now. The air was still too heavy and what had just been told was too...major. He didn't want to abandon his friend during his time in need._

"_Please," Troy said desperately, "Just leave."_

_Chad nodded and did so, closing the door behind him with a silent click. Then, Troy turned back to the computer screen before exiting the image, not saving the changes before dragging it to the trash bin._

_For the first time that night, Troy began to do what he would do for the next eighteen months. He took the blame and the lies for Edward's actions all in hopes that the woman he loved wouldn't get hurt._

_If only he knew._

When he was finished detailing the events that had caused he and Edward's month long fight, he finally looked up at Gabriella. She had her hand clasped to her mouth and tears were trailing down her cheeks. She let out a choked sob and Troy felt his heart break.

"God, Gabriella, please don't cry," he murmured, pulling her against him, tucking her underneath his chin. She was shaking as she cried and he rubbed circles on her back. "I know, I know it's hard to hear what he was like."

Suddenly the crying stopped and Gabriella pulled back slightly. She looked up at him with wide, watery eyes and he felt himself break all over again. He brought his hands up and wiped away her tears.

"I can't believe you..." she let a few more tears escape her eyes. "I can't believe you did that. I can't believe that...all this time?" she lifted her own hand to rest over his. "All this time? Really?"

He nodded slowly, his cheeks heating up. "Isn't it obvious?" he chuckled softly.

She brought her hands up to rest on his chest, feeling his heart thump wildly beneath his palm. "Even when I hated you?"

Once more, he nodded. "Even when you hated me," he swallowed roughly. "Everyday for the last three years, I have wished that you would be mine, Gabriella," he admitted and she felt her breath catch in her throat. "And almost everyday, I was met with the crushing reality that you were his.''

"God," she choked out. "I've been so blind." How had she spent the last three years with the completely wrong person? How could she have offered to spend the rest of her life with him? Leaning into Troy's chest, she hiccuped, trying desperately to stop her tears. "I am so, so sorry."

Troy ran his hand along her curls. "Gabriella, you can't be sorry just because he got there first."

"He should have never gotten there in the first place," she said into his shirt. "I never should have just ignored you like that. My god, I'm such a judgmental bitch. I should have given you a chance. I should have...things could be so different." She felt her tears soaking his shirt. "Why did you never tell me?"

"Because," he said, his voice shaky and vulnerable. "If I really cared about you, if what I thought I was feeling was real...how could I deny you happiness? You were happy with Edward, why would I take that away?"

"But I wasn't," she sobbed. "I thought I was, but everyday there was something missing. Oh god, how could I do this to you? We've missed out on so much because of me..."

"Hey now," Troy said softly, slipping his fingers underneath her chin to have her look at him. He smiled. "It doesn't matter. We're here now, aren't we?"

She nodded, looking up into his eyes, his beautiful, kind eyes. "Yeah. We are."

He leaned down and kissed her softly then. Once, twice, three times. "For luck," he whispered against her mouth when they pulled apart.

She shifted against him, noticing the roses he had set down on the bed beside them. She reached for them and ran her hands over the petals, noting their colour. "Lavender roses..." she muttered and he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Do you know the meaning behind them? The colour, I mean?" he asked quietly and she bit her lip.

"Sort of," she admitted. Briefly, she recalled that he had handed her one in her dream all those weeks ago. "I know white roses mean innocence and purity, and red means passion. I read about them once. I can't remember what lavender means, though."

He bend down and spoke softly into her ear. "They represent love at first sight," he pressed a kiss to her earlobe, "And I have loved you since you walked into the reception hall three years ago, Gabriella and it only grew when you sat down at our table."

She kissed him hastily at his words, lips moving against his and tongue begging for entrance to his mouth. She kissed him hard, passionately. How she wished she could erase time and say the words back to him. One day soon, she would.

They fell back onto the bed and he hovered over her, placing hot open mouth kisses along her jaw and neck. She whimpered slightly and winced when she heard a crackling noise and pressed back on his chest.

"Wait!" she said, grasping the roses that were one movement away from being crushed by their bodies. She set them on his night-table and smiled up at him. "I don't want them to get ruined."

He smiled back lazily at her, peppering kisses all over her face as her hands snaked under his shirt, running her fingers along his muscled stomach and chest, pulling the shirt over his head all together. His own fingers found their way underneath the hem of her dress, running along her calves and thighs, making her shiver.

He pulled back suddenly, ceasing his movements and looking her in the eye. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before leaning forward and pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. There was still so much left to be said, so much to do or cover. But they would get there, this much he knew and he was so thankful for it.

"You have my heart, Gabriella," he whispered and she felt herself burst, remembering her dreams and all the times he had said that to her, only in a different way. The words felt familiar, comfortable, and she clung to them as she reconnected their lips and fell back into him, perfectly content for the first time in years.

---

I wasn't planning to have this up until tomorrow, as I thought I worked today. But when I looked at the note I had scribbled my hours on, it said Friday. My mind was convinced it was today though, so I just called up my work and asked.

"It's Friday, darling," my manager said and then I realized I had the whole house to myself and the day off unexpectedly. Oh joy!

So I wrote and it was lovely. I drink iced-tea when I write and I went through about four cans of green iced-tea this afternoon while writing this. It finally ties up about a dozen lose ends I had, thank god.

Also, there's once again not one, but two tracks for this chapter. One by Parlour Steps that is from Edward's point of view, of all people on he and Troy's fight ("You'll be lucky this whole damn life/You'll marry her and you'll dance in the fire/") and one from Troy's point of view again. Oh fun times.

What's that you say? There's still one glaring lose end? One that's pink and blonde and dramatic? Oh, yeah, that. It's coming. Not next chapter, but soon.

Next update should be Saturday. I am telling you because this will force me to get it finished, and considering I have nothing to do, I'll dedicate that day to chapter thirteen.

But oh, how I wish I was in New York this weekend...


	13. The Boyfriend

---

**Mamihlapinatapei**

Yaghan, noun: a look shared between two people with each wishing the other will initiate something that which both desire, but neither wants to start.

---

_Six weeks later._

"Would you stop!" Gabriella cried as the flash of the camera blurred her eyes and her hands shot up to cover her face. "You're acting like the paparazzi or something absurd!"

Troy lowered his camera, smiling brightly at her. "I can't help it!" he whined. "You're just so pretty I want to capture every single second on film." The two of them were situated in the front yard, Gabriella suddenly having decided she wanted to plant even more flowers in the garden and Troy deciding that he wanted to talk even more pictures of her.

Gabriella rolled her eyes and brushed her hand over her face, streaking smudges of dirt along the bridge of her nose. "That sounds a little bit creepy, just so you know."

Troy laughed and came to sit behind her, nuzzling her neck with his nose. "You love it."

She let out a scoff. "How do you know?" she said, bending down to her flowers, arranging the dirt around them carefully. "I could be getting really irritated by it. I could be wanting you and your camera to go and shove it."

Troy bit back a smile, feigning hurt. "You don't mean that, do you?" he asked, running a hand through her dark curls.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I'm one step away from meaning it." She shifted on the ground and brought her gloved hand to her face again, smudging more dirt on her skin. "Besides, why would you want to take pictures of me like this? I'm all sweaty and dirty."

Troy smirked and pushed her hair over her shoulder, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. "When you put it that way," he said, pausing to kiss her neck again, "how could I _not _want to?"

"You, Mr. Bolton," she said, turning to face him, "Are distracting me from my gardening." she looked at him pointedly. "What would your mother say?"

Leaning down, Troy pressed a quick kiss to her lips. "She would say thank god you finally found someone to distract and hurry up with the grandchildren already."

Gabriella's eyebrows shot up, taken aback by his comments. Every once in a while, he said something that made her realize the full capacity of their situation. She was in a relationship with Troy Bolton, the man she had hated. The man who, despite everything, had loved her for three years.

_How in the world had she gotten here?_

After Troy had confessed his feelings for her, Gabriella had been more than a little shocked. Suddenly, though, everything had made sense, from his eyes on her at the wedding while she danced with Edward, to the way he had tried to stop her from ruining her old wedding dress, to the fact that he was always careful to never say he hated her.

Then there was his kindness towards her, every single sweet thing he had done for her. He had loved her through it all. God, how could she have been so blind?

Edward, she thought bitterly. God, it was getting more and more difficult not to hate him. Had he ever really loved her? He had wasted three years of her life and had he not been so insistant, such a crappy friend at that wedding, maybe she would have given Troy a chance.

Really, though, Gabriella knew she was grasping at ways not to blame herself. In the end, she had treated Troy poorly and she hadn't given him a second glance at the wedding. Looking at him now, she wondered how she had been able to do so. He stood before her dressed in a black t-shirt that showed off his defined arms and chest and a pair of light wash jeans, his beanie, absent. She reached up and touched her head where it sat. She didn't wear it often, but every once in a while, he'd tug it over her eyes and she'd leave it there, happy with the comfortable warmth that it brought from both the memories of her dreams, and the wonder of her new reality.

He stood up and smiled at her, his eyes dancing as he snapped another picture of her. She smiled for this one, wanting to please him and he grinned back, before stepping forward and bending at the waist. She met him halfway and their lips joined in a quick kiss.

"God, you're good at that," he murmured, pulling back and snapping another photo. "And beautiful. How did I get so lucky?"

Gabriella hooked her arms around his neck, refusing to let him move. "I should be saying the same about you," she said, nuzzling his shoulder. "You're are, too."

He laughed. "What I'm a good kisser? Or I'm beautiful?"

"Both," she mumbled and he pulled back to look at her.

"I am a man," he said firmly. "I am not beautiful."

"Uh huh," she said, going back to her gardening. "Well, I beg to differ."

Suddenly, she felt herself being pushed as Troy appeared from the side, hovering over her. He had her pinned beneath him, her wrists up by her head and her legs in between his knees. He smiled down at her.

"I'm not going to take this," he said, smiling. "Do I need to prove myself to you?"

Gabriella shrugged her shoulders as best as she could. "I don't know. Maybe."

With that, his hands came up to lace around her wrists gently, holding her in place and he bent his head and kissed her with abandon. Gabriella responded back anxiously, their kisses becoming heated and almost sloppy. She dragged her tongue along his bottom lip and he opened his mouth, giving her access to what she wanted. As his tongue moved along with hers, she vaguely registered that they were lying on their front lawn in full view for anyone to see.

"Troy," she murmured against his lips, unable to move away. It just felt so damn nice. "We should stop."

"No way," he said, "This is a matter of pride now. I need to prove that I wear the pants in this relationship."

Their kisses continued, alternating between languid ones and quick, short pecks. "I don't think making out with me on the front lawn is really the way to go about it, to be honest."

Troy seemed to consider this briefly as he pulled away. He looked down at the woman beneath him and ran his fingers against her swollen lips gently before diving down for another kiss. "Nah," he said in between, "I think this works just fine."

He let go of her wrists and her fingers trailed up his arms to lace themselves through his hair. They continued with their activities for several moments until a loud shriek and a few giggles broke them apart.

Their gazes flew to the sidewalk, where two girls and a boy stood. Abigail and Mckaila, along with Devon, all of Troy's students.

"See!" Mckaila shouted, shoving Abigail slightly. "I told you they were in love!"

Abigail staggered, drawing her pink bunny to her chest while Devon pretended to gag beside her. "Well how was I sa'posed to know?" she asked, "Your picture didn't prove nothing!"

"Yes it did, yes it did!" she said. "I said they were in love and I was right admit it right now, Abby!"

"Nuh uh!" the girl yelled back.

"Yah huh!" Mckaila yelled, her blonde hair flying. "Let's just ask them!" She turned to Troy, her small features determined. "Troy!" she called and by now the two adults had picked themselves up and were sitting on the ground, trying to make it look like nothing had happened. "Do you love Gab...Gab...Gaberella?"

At this, Troy couldn't help but smile and lace his fingers with hers. Gabriella was blushing profusely as the kids analyzed their still new relationship. He gave her hand a squeeze. He was in love with her, after all, but he didn't want to make her uncomfortable.

"Go and play, Mckaila!" he said, smiling at the girl, hoping she would take him seriously and run away. She didn't.

"No!" she stomped her foot. "I gotta know! Are you in love?"

Sighing Troy dragged a hand across his face, before catching a glimpse of Gabriella out of the corner of his eye. She smirked at him.

"Well, Troy?" Gabriella asked, "Are you?"

The way her eyes were dancing made him snap and he felt himself nod. "Yes," he said, feeling his face heat up as he answered, mostly to Gabriella. "I am."

Mckaila jumped up and down victoriously. "See!" she exclaimed to Abigail. "I told you, I told you!" With that she ran off, taunting her friend as she came running after her. Only little Devon remained and he frowned at Troy.

"What's wrong, buddy?" Troy asked the little boy who made a disgusted face.

"You have cooties now!" He shouted. "You're infected! Troy has cooties, Troy has cooties, Troy has cooties!" And following his companions lead, he ran down the sidewalk chanting, tracing their footsteps.

Gabriella brought a hand to her forehead and she laughed. "Well, that was certainly interesting," she said, licking her lips. "But I really should get back to work if I want to finish any of this."

"What are planting anyways?" Troy asked, crouching down and grabbing his camera, taking another picture of her. Her face was slightly flushed and her cheeks swollen from his kisses. He grinned at the image on screen. This one was getting it's own frame.

"Flowers," she responded obviously and he rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I get that," he retorted. "But what kind?"

Gabriella turned to him, smiling slightly. "They're on the porch. I thought you would have seen them when you came outside." She batted her eyelashes at him playfully. "Want to be a sweetheart and go grab them for me?" She finished her request with a soft peck to his cheek.

Despite how close they had become physically, Troy couldn't help but blush at her simple show of affection, even after what had just happened. "No problem."

He walked around the garden to the front porch where several plastic trays held large, tall colourful tulips in shades of red and what Troy could only identify as a striped yellow and pink. He picked up a tray and frowned.

"You're planting tulips?" he asked, somewhat confused. "How cliche." He set them down on the ground next to her, careful not to hurt them.

Gabriella glared at him. "They are not cliche!" she protested, pulling them towards her. She stroked one petal carefully. "They're beautiful and wonderful and...do you even know their meaning?"

Troy sat back down on the ground, shrugging. "No," he answered honestly, "The only reason I knew about the lavender roses thing was because of my mom. I picked up a few things on agriculture from her, but not loads."

Gabriella nodded slowly, pulling one of the tulips out of it's packaging carefully. "Oh," she responded. "Okay then."

Troy raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you going to tell me what they mean?"

She shook her head, biting her lip. "I don't know. Do you want to know?"

"Obviously," Troy said, confused as to why she was clamming up all of a sudden. "Just tell me, Gabriella."

She sighed, leaning back on her hands. "Okay, but you have to promise not to laugh."

"I promise." Troy held out his pinkie and Gabriella stared at it, one eyebrow quirked. "What?"

"A pinkie promise?" she asked, amused. "I haven't made one of those since I was in high school."

Troy grinned. "Yeah, well, like I've said, high school were the best days of my life, so let's revert to that time. Give me your pinkie." Gabriella did as he requested and linked her pinkie with his, smiling at the warmth that instantly traveled up her arm.

"If one of us is to break this promise," Troy recited, "that person has to stick one-thousand needles in their eyes."

Gabriella gaped at him, yanking back her pinkie. "Troy!" she exclaimed as he laughed. "God, you are so violent! Such a guy!"

Troy laughed once more at her astonished face. "Gabriella, chill out. Now tell me the meaning of the flowers before I go inside and Google it myself."

"Okay, well," she began. "Each colour I bought has a different meaning. The striped ones here," she pointed to the group of flowers, "are variegated ones and they represent beautiful eyes." She glanced up at him then, seeing his face slowly shift. She swallowed. "The red represents a declaration of love."

Troy paused, taking in this information. "Okay. So, um...you're planting these flowers because..."

"Because your eyes are beautiful," she said softly, "and you say you love me."

Letting out a shaky breath, he nodded. "So these flowers—"

"I'm planting them for you, Troy," she said, blushing and that was all it took for him to leap forward and press his lips against hers in a frenzied kiss, completely overcome with emotion.

"Troy!" she protested against his lips as he pushed her back against the grass, "We've already had a flock of school children berate us! I don't want their parents to join us, too!"

"Don't care," Troy said, kissing her languidly. "Really, really don't care."

And as his tongue slipped into her mouth, Gabriella found she had grown quite apathetic as well.

---

The household was filled with chatter later that evening as the housemates, along with Annabel and Taylor, gathered in the dining room for dinner. The first meal that had occurred with Annabel had been such a success that they had decided to make it a weekly thing.

So every Monday the group got together and lamented about the events that would proceed for that week, laughing and enjoying themselves. Gabriella would cook, though Troy would help as best as he could with salad or bread. The house had grown used to them being a couple almost instantaneously, but that was partly because the pair had fallen into such normalcy so quickly that it was almost impossible not to.

Gabriella found she and Troy gelled almost seamlessly. It was like they had been together their entire lives. She had returned to work two weeks ago and so she would spend her mornings writing while he spent his mornings editing. They would run errands in the afternoon, sometimes separately and sometimes apart, it didn't matter. The evenings were spent with their housemates, and the nights, the nights were just for them.

Nights were rarely spent alone. Though they had the luxury of separate rooms if need be, they had only used it twice. Once when Gabriella had a cold and the other when Troy had gone out with Jason and come home drunk. Despite how much she was growing to love him, Gabriella preferred that he sleep it off in his own bed, thank you very much.

Their nights together were her favourite. That was their time. Sometimes they'd curl up in bed and watch a movie, others were spent just talking. Almost every night included kissing and touching, fooling around like teenagers. Though they had not consummated their physical relationship, Gabriella knew they were going to get to that point soon, but she wanted to make sure she was ready. Completely sure that she could hand herself over to another man, that her feelings for Edward were gone. For the most part, she felt that she was, but there was always that little voice telling her to take things slow with Troy. She was lucky, though, as he was willing to wait.

"I've waited just for you, in general, for three years, Gabriella," he'd say. "I can wait however long you need for the rest of it." And then he'd kiss her and that'd be the end of that.

Now she sat next to him at the dining room table, his left hand on her knee, giving it a little squeeze every once in a while as they ate and conversed. Not for any particular reason. Just because he could.

"So I told her," Annabel said as she fiercely cut a piece of meat, "I said, Holly, if we're going to move in together we need to take precautions. And I mean serious ones."

Taylor raised an eyebrow. "Precautions? Against what?"

"Zombies," Annabel said seriously, sighing at their confused and shocked glances. "I know, I know, it sounds absurd, but it's a fear of mine and a very real possibility."

Beside her, Jeff gave her shoulder a squeeze. "It's not absurd, Annabel," he said kindly. "It's completely rational. Right guys?"

The group chorused their agreement, not daring to offend sweet Annabel, who despite her friendliness, was really kind of weird. She had been coming around more frequently, but much to everyone else's dismay (and annoyance), things had not progressed with Jeff one bit. No one could understand why, but the man was simply too shy to make a move on the redhead and she didn't seem to care either way. She just appeared to be happy to be spending time with him.

This was frustrating, because no one could tell if Annabel had romantic feelings for Jeff. Gabriella often vouched for that she did, considering her reaction when she had invited her for dinner the first time, but Annabel herself had not acted like that since. Even when Gabriella and Taylor cornered her one night while they had coffee in the kitchen whilst the men watched basketball, she had not given any hints to her feelings.

"So, Annabel," Gabriella had said, sipping her coffee, "You and Jeff seem to be closer."

Annabel nodded, taking a drink of her own beverage. "Oh, yeah, he's great. We actually talk at work now. Huge improvements."

Taylor and Gabriella exchanged a smile. "That's good! So you enjoy spending time with him, then?" Taylor prodded.

"Oh, of course!" Annabel said, "but then again, I enjoy spending time with just about everyone. You guys are amazing, by the way! I keep telling Holly that she should come and meet you ASAP."

And then the conversation steered in the direction of the latest Johnny Depp flick and she left before more interrogating could be done. Jeff and the guys had immediately quizzed them for information and were more than dismayed that they had once again come up short.

"Aren't you girls supposed to have some kind of radar when it comes to this kind of thing?" Troy had asked later that night as he and Gabriella climbed into his bed. They'd alternate nights spent in each room. It was only fair, and Gabriella had grown awfully fond of his. She glared at him.

"For your information," she said, pulling back his comfortable and sliding in on her side of the bed (they had sides now, something Troy marveled at every night), "That girl's head is harder to get into that a Pearl Jam concert."

"Brady Bunch movie?" Troy asked, picking up on her reference.

"Damn straight," she responded, curling into his chest as he slid in beside her. "It's so frustrating. When she's not talking about some insane movie we've never heard of or obscure indie music, it's like her emotions shut off. She's impossible to read."

"Hmm," Troy mumbled as his hand slid up and down her bare shoulder. "Maybe that's why Jeff hasn't had the courage to make a move yet."

That had to be it, but at the moment, with his hand on her shoulder Annabel looked eternally grateful. At least someone understood her zombie fears.

"Care to elaborate a bit, though?" Chad asked, always one to try and make people feel comfortable. "Like, what sort of precautions?"

"Oh!" Annabel said, instantly perking up. She adjusted the bright yellow sunglasses that were sitting on her head. "Well, mostly shotguns and pistols, tons of ammunition. I told Holly that we could store it in the closet, just in case, but she flat out refused." Annabel scoffed. "Can you believe it? Then she said that maybe we should be protecting ourselves against ninja robbers, too. Can you believe her? Like I wasn't already thinking of that."

The group nodded, desperate to think of a response that didn't make them sound rude or insane. Thankfully, the sharp trill of the phone interrupted their conversation and Chad pinched the bridge of his nose with his index and middle finger in aggravation.

"The phone is ringing," he groaned, "The phone is ringing during dinner. What did we agree on for dinner?"

Jeff raised his hand almost obnoxiously, like a student waiting for a teacher to call on him for the answer. Chad glared.

"Don't be a smart ass, Jeff," he hissed, and the man in question lowered his hand, replying anyway with a cheeky grin.

"We're supposed to turn off the phone during dinner," he said, as the phone rang again. The group of friends sat at the table observing one another carefully. No one wanted to leave to answer it, but the ringing was persistent.

Troy sighed, before pointing to Jason. "Jase, go answer the phone."

"What?" Jason said, his mouth full of food. "Why do I have to go?"

"Because your table manners are making us sick anyways," Troy responded, resting his arm around the back of Gabriella's chair. "And because you woke Gabriella and I up this morning when you staggered into my room by accident. Cause you were drunk."

"_Again_," Gabriella piped in before raising her fork to her mouth and taking a delicate bite.

Jason glared. "It's no fun having you two gang up on me! I don't like this!"

"Jason go answer the phone!" Chad snapped, his nerves getting the best of him. Would this phone never stop ringing? "You're closest to the kitchen anyways!"

"Fine!" Jason yelled, standing up so quickly and forcefully that his chair fell backwards. "Make me do all the work! You all disgust me!"

Stomping into the kitchen like a child, Jason found the cordless phone sitting on the counter and glanced at the caller ID.

"What the fuck?" he moaned. There were far too many numbers on the screen for it to be a local call. "Telemarketers! Those sons of bitches!"

Instead of answering the call and giving them a piece of his mind like he was itching to do, he tried reserve psychology and continued to let it ring, sending it messages telepathically.

"Jason, what the hell are you doing?" Jeff's voice called out. "Why haven't you answered the phone?"

"Shut up!" Jason called back. "I'm concentrating!" The Jedi-Mind-Trick was where it was at, he figured, for a moment later, the ringing stopped. He continued to stare at the phone for a few seconds, waiting to see if it picked up again. It didn't. Instead, the little light indicating that there was a new voicemail began to flash. Jason's eyes narrowed further.

"Oh, _no_," he growled. "Oh no, oh no, oh no. You think you can mess with us? With _me_? No, you telemarketing scum, I will not have you leaving voicemail on our answering machine!" With that he punched in the pass-code to access in the inbox and upon hearing that he had one new message, promptly deleted it without listening.

"Fuck you!" he hissed, slamming the phone down. "I win again! Try and outsmart me, I dare you! I will not change my long distance plan, I will not get new window treatments and I will not open a line of credit at the bank!" He bent over lower so his face was mere inches away from the phone. "And I will be damned if I give money to the firefighters. So fuck you! Jason, _one_, telemarketers, _zero_!"

As he basked in his moment of glory, the phone lit up again and began to ring once more, the eleven digit number taunting him. "Oh, no you don't!" he yanked the cord out of the wall, silencing the phone entirely. He grinned victoriously.

"And I have won once again, you scum!" he shouted, hands on his hips. He turned around, pleased with himself and ready to get back to his beef when he saw a stunned Annabel standing behind him, an empty water pitcher in her hand.

"Um," he paused, feeling awkward. "Uh, how much of that did you see?"

"Mostly all of it," she answered honestly, walking over to the fridge and pulling it open. "Protecting those you love against telemarketers. Don't worry, I get it."

He blinked. "You do?"

She nodded, retrieving the other cold pitcher of lemonade from the fridge and closing the door behind her. "Oh yeah. They're the first step towards the technology rebellion. That will inevitably happen."

Jason furrowed his eyebrows. "I thought you were preparing for a zombie outbreak?"

Annabel smiled at him, shaking her head fondly. "Yes," she said slowly, as if speaking to a small child. "But there's also technology that we should be afraid of." She let out a sigh. "I really should give you guys some survival guides. At this rate, none of you will live to see thirty!"

The pair walked back into the dining room, Annabel smiling brightly and Jason thoroughly confused. Chad glanced at Jason as he sat down.

"Took you long enough," he said, "Why didn't you just disconnect the phone?"

Jason rolled his eyes, stabbing into a piece of roast beef and taking a bite. It had gotten slightly cold. He frowned. "I was defending the household against a possible technology rebellion. I believe that merits a thank you."

Unfortunately it for Jason, the silence he was met with would have to do.

---

Later that night, Troy and Gabriella were seated on the swing on the front porch, the air cool and comfortable as crickets chirped and the stars shined down on them. Gabriella had her head nestled against Troy's shoulder and he has his arm around her. They sat there for a while in silence, simply enjoying each others company.

Suddenly, though, Gabriella remembered something she had been thinking about a lot lately, but something they had not really taken the time to discuss. Troy's job, the one he had applied and taken pictures of her for, turned out to be a full-time deal in New York. If he were to get it, he would have to move there.

Leaving Gabriella alone in Albuquerque.

She hadn't brought it up for two reasons. Number one was that she really, _really_ didn't want him to leave and she found that that made her really, _really_ selfish. She was just so happy and comfortable with him, she didn't want to let him go just yet, if ever. The second reason was that she was afraid their new relationship would make more of an impact on his decision making than she would have liked.

So she had kept silent.

He had submitted his portfolio over four weeks ago, though, and they were due back to hear from the agency at any time now, so it was now or never. She had to bring it up.

"Um, Troy?" she said quietly. She really hated ruining their peace. "Have you heard anything about the job?"

Troy shook his head, rubbing his thumb over her arm. "No. Why?"

"I was just...just wondering," she said just as quietly as before. She pressed a soft kiss to his clothed chest. "Have you given any thought to what your decision might be? You know, if you get the job?

"I am taking you into consideration, if that's what you're asking," Troy said, kissing her on the forehead. "I hope you know that."

"I _do_ know that," Gabriella said, drawing circles on his chest with her finger. "But I wish you wouldn't."

Troy stiffened. "Why?"

She sighed. "Because you shouldn't. Had I not come into your life, if you were to receive the job offer you would take it right away, no questions asked. I don't want to hold you back or complicate things."

"Gabriella," Troy said, stilling her movements and lifting her chin to look up at him. "I want to take you into consideration. If it's between you and some job, I'm going to pick you, no questions asked."

"So I would be holding you back," she said quietly and he sighed.

"No, not at all!" Troy insisted. "There's just a difference in my priorities now." He nipped at her lips gently with his own. "And I am more than happy it about it. I like this change in priorities."

He paused, looking bashful for a moment. "Remember that day that we asked you to come stay with us, you said I was miserable?"

Gabriella flinched, recalling the events in her head. "Yes. Why?"

"You were right," Troy responded, "I was miserable. Here I was, this self-employed smuck hopelessly in love with his best friend's fiancee. It was so hard seeing you with him, Gabriella, especially since any time we talked it was less than civil. Work was all I had to distract me, so back then, of course I'd take it."

He ducked his head, then, suddenly even more shy. "But now? Now I have you. You're my girlfriend," he pecked her on the forehead. "And my girlfriend takes precedence over any stupid job any day."

"But, Troy, I—"

"Gabriella, I love you," he interjected and her eyes grew wide. He didn't say it much, partly because it held too much meaning and partly because he didn't want to scare her. She hadn't said it back, after all. But right now called for it. "I love you and I'm not going to lose you. Not for anything."

He leaned down and kissed her softly and she responded back. Pulling away, she glided her fingers over his face, feeling the stubble on his chin.

"I want to say it back, Troy," she said, swallowing, "I want to say it back more than anything but I can't just yet. I want to be sure that...that it's absolutely and positively true." He nodded in understanding, leaning down to kiss her once more, but she pushed her hand to his chest, stopping him.

"But know this," she said, looking deep into his eyes. "I'm falling in love with you more and more each second I spend with you," she paused seeing his shocked look and letting it sink in, "and one day, I will say it back to you and I will mean it with every single part of my being."

He kissed her then, gently and fully and she felt her heart burst. His warm hands rested against her waist and hers remained on his face, memorizing his features. The kiss was different from every other one they shared, this one seeming heavier, deeper and neither wanted it to end. But eventually, they had to, and they broke apart, their foreheads leaning against one another.

Gabriella opened her eyes slowly to see him staring back at her, his own gleaming. She smiled.

"So I'm your girlfriend now, am I?" she asked coyly and Troy laughed.

"Well, I kind of thought it was obvious," he said, pulling her against him.

She smiled. "It is. I just like hearing you say it." She giggled. "Say it again."

Troy rolled his eyes, but complied. "You, Gabriella Montez, are my girlfriend." He was surprised at the giddy feeling the words gave him. "Does this make me your boyfriend?"

Gabriella pretended to think for a moment. "Hm. I don't know. Maybe."

"Hey," he said, burying his face in his neck and peppering the skin with kisses. "Say it!"

"Alright, alright!" she said between giggles. "You're my boyfriend! Gosh, you make me feel like such a teenager!"

Troy kissed his way up her neck to her lips. "That's hardly a bad thing," he said against her mouth.

Suddenly, the porch light went out and Jeff poked his head out the balcony window above them. "You two have five minutes to come inside before Chad comes down to get you!" he called. "He says the neighborhood has had enough PDA from you guys for one day!"

Troy and Gabriella pulled back and exchanged a surprised glance, before Gabriella crossed her arms and Troy rolled his eyes.

"We're being treated like teenagers, too," Gabriella said, not ashamed to admit that she was pouting slightly.

"Well, I was a rebellious one as a teen, so," Troy said, before pushing her back against the wood of the bench so he was hovering over top of her. "Fuck them."

As he kissed her zealously and she kissed back, giggling, the light over them began flickering on and off obnoxiously, but they ignored it. To them, the rest of the world had simply faded away.

---

A few chapters ago, my dear friend Tiffany asked if we could please have just a whole chapter of them making out. I said no. This is pretty much it, though. Fluff and filler.

And it killed me, you guys, I nearly scrapped the whole thing. I decided against it, because I needed it in the long run, but I am so excited to get into the drama in the coming chapters.

Next update soon. Maybe even tomorrow, considering my shift at work got cancelled. We shall see. :)

Don't forget this chapter's track! Only one this time.


	14. The Heartbreaker

---

**Mamihlapinatapei**

Yaghan, noun: a look shared between two people with each wishing the other will initiate something that which both desire, but neither wants to start.

---

Troy was elated. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but he was really, really happy. It had been almost two months since he and Gabriella had kissed and somehow found themselves in a relationship and he couldn't imagine being happier.

Yet everyday, she did something or said something and it just got that much better. Being with her was like nothing he had ever imagined; it was so much better. God, he loved her so much that he felt kind of like a girl.

She was amazing though. She was smart and funny and talented. She had so many hobbies and so many things to say and he just loved her. He loved her hair and he loved her kisses and he loved her touch. God, he was happy.

At the moment, she was hauled up in the kitchen doing lord knows what. He had been in his studio, doing some last minute editing and preparing a lesson plan for one of the kids' final photography lessons that Saturday. Deciding he needed a break, or at least a beer, he had pulled himself away from his studio and found her dressed in an apron with flour dotting her hair and cheeks. He grinned at the sight before walking in the room to greet her.

"What are you doing, beautiful?" he asked, creeping up behind her. She was rolling dough and she leaned into him as he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

"I am baking Jeff cookies," she explained, turning around to wrap her arms around his neck. "He finally asked Annabel on a date, can you believe it!"

"Really?" Troy asked excitedly. "That's awesome! So are these a congratulations batch or something then?"

Gabriella frowned and bit her lip. "Not exactly. Somehow, Annabel didn't get the message that it was supposed to be a date...so she invited her roommate Holly and their friend Chris. So he's kind of in the dumps about it."

Troy sighed. "So these are a 'I'm sorry your life sucks' kind of cookies?"

Gabriella nodded, leaning up to peck him on the lips. "Pretty much," she said, pulling back and returning to her work. "You can have some, too, if you'd like, but could you be super awesome and go grab Chad? He's sitting on the front porch and I need his help with the marinate for the steaks he wants for dinner."

Troy nodded, kissing her on the cheek before turning to the front foyer. "No problem, gorgeous. I gotta talk to him anyways. I'll be back so soon you won't have time to miss me."

He raced down the hall, grinning at the sound of her laughter before pulling the front door open and stepping outside, closing it behind him. "Hey, man, Gabriella needs your help in the kitchen, but I gotta talk to you about something first," he explained.

Chad nodded. "Okay and okay." He sat up from his spot on the porch swing. Shoot."

"So," Troy began, leaning against the brick of the house. "You know that job I applied for in New York? The one at that agency with the office and the huge paycheck that's kind of a big deal?"

Chad nodded, recalling the position that his friend had been coveting for nearly a year. "Yeah, what about it?" he asked, his eyes growing slightly wide. "Have you heard back from them?"

"Yep," Troy answered, looking down.

"What?" Chad exclaimed. "When?"

"About four days ago."

"Four days ago!" Chad's mind was reeling. "You've known for four days and you're only mentioning it now? What the hell man?"

Troy shrugged. "Ah well, you know..."

Chad stared at him. "Well, what's the verdict? You get it?"

"Yep," Troy said with a sly grin, which turned into a laugh when Chad jumped up to hug and clap him on the back.

"Holy shit, man!" Chad exclaimed excitedly. "Who would have thought, my best friend, a big shot photographer in New York City! Wow! You're gonna take it, right?"

"Okay, first of all, shut the fuck up, keep your voice down!" Troy hissed, "No one else knows but you." He had received the phone call from a lovely woman named Janelle four days ago, informing him that he had a position available if he wanted it. Despite his initial excitement, he told her he would have to get back to her on it. She told him she had a week and that left him with three days left to give her an answer. It didn't matter, though. He had already made up his mind.

"What do you mean no one knows but me?" Chad asked confused. "Haven't you told Gabriella?"

Troy shook his head. "Not yet."

"You didn't include her in the decision making process?" Chad was getting more surprised by the second. "I thought you guys were getting serious."

"We are," Troy answered. "But I didn't need to talk to her about it, I already know my decision. I'm not going to take it."

Chad gaped at his friend. "You're not going to take it? Are you insane? Why?"

Troy sighed, leaning back against the wall as Chad settled back onto the swing. "A year ago, man, I would have taken it in a heartbeat. I would have jumped at the idea of a high paying job doing what I love in New York. It would have given me a life, something to do. Something to wake up for. Something to make me happy. But now..."

"But now..." Chad prodded, waiting for him to continue.

"Now things are different," Troy said with a fond smile. "I have Gabriella. That's what I wake up for. That's what makes me happy. I don't need anyone else, and if that job means I have to leave her, then fuck it. I applied for it before we got together and I never really, truly thought I'd get it, so what's the point?"

"Wait, wait," Chad said, trying to gather the information. "You're turning down the position because of Gabriella? How do you think she'll feel about this?"

"She won't know about it," Troy said firmly. "She'll sprout some shit about how she's holding me back and ya-da ya-da ya-da, which is entirely untrue."

"But isn't she, though?" Chad asked carefully. "I mean, this is something you've wanted for a long time and she's unknowingly taking it away from you."

Troy turned to his friend, surprised. Chad had always been pessimistic, but to hear him say that about Gabriella, who Chad had known Troy loved for so long was surprising. "No, she's not. My priorities are just different now. If she wasn't so settled here, didn't have her job, I would ask her to come make the move with me. But in no way would I take it knowing that she and I wouldn't be together."

Chad swallowed, trying to weigh his words. "Are you sure, I mean...I know you love Gabriella, but are you sure...are you sure this isn't a rebound kind of thing?"

Troy's eyes turned to slits. "Watch what the fuck you're saying, Danforth," he snarled. "You don't know anything about what goes on between myself and Gabriella." It was no fun having the creeping insecurity he himself had been wondering about for weeks shoved in his face.

A part of him was worried that maybe they were moving too fast. That maybe this was just another step for Gabriella to heal. It hadn't been that long since Edward's death after all...but Troy loved her. With that, they'd be okay.

"Okay, okay!" Chad said, raising his hands defensively. "I was just saying, just throwing it out there."

"Well, I'm throwing it back to you," Troy hissed. "This isn't a rebound relationship for Gabriella, so shut the fuck up and deal with your own problems. You sure Taylor's not with you out of pity?"

Chad flinched. "That was harsh, man."

Troy sighed, feeling guilty. "I know. Sorry." Maybe he was more worried about this than he thought.

Chad shrugged. "It's okay. I was an ass, too. I just don't want to see you get hurt or throw away a great opportunity without being one-hundred percent sure. But you're right, I don't know what you and Gabriella, do. If you think it's real, then it's real."

"It is, man," Troy said, resting his head against the brick, reassuring himself and Chad. "God, it's ridiculous how in love with her I am, you know? I never thought I'd get my chance, that this could actually be happening." A small smile spread over his lips. "And yet everyday I wake up, and there is she, laying next to me. It's so...so surreal."

Chad smiled, his hesitation melting away when he saw how happy his friend was. "I've never seen you like this, man," he said with a smile. "It's different."

"That's cause I've never felt like this before, Chad," he grinned. "It's completely different now. Nothing could ruin what we have."

Suddenly though, the early evening silence was ripped away when loud, blaring pop music ripped through the street, the bass from a car pumping. The men exchanged a confused glance, peering their heads down the street. It was unusual to hear such loud music coming from a vehicle at this time of day.

A bright magenta Mustang convertible whipped it's way around the corner, speeding past their house, only to screech to a halt and pull itself into reserve. The men exchanged another glance.

What the fuck?

The car backed up before pulling into their driveway. At this, they looked at each other in confusion. Who did they know with a hot pink convertible? A woman stepped out of the car, dressed in a raspberry coloured T-shirt dress with a matching belt around her waist. She was tall and tan, with long blonde, layered hair and a pair of large black Chanel sunglasses perched on her nose. She slammed her car door angrily and yanked off her sunglasses, throwing them on the dashboard before glaring at the men and stomping up their driveway.

"Who the hell is that?" Chad asked. "Friend of Gabriella's?"

Troy's breathing, however, had stopped. He knew this woman. He had only seen her once, but he knew her. What the hell was she doing here?

"Can I help you miss?" Chad asked, frowning at her slightly. She stormed up the pathway to their porch, still glaring.

"Yeah, you can tell me where that fucker Edward Guerin is and stat," she said, looking to the door of the house, and raising her voice. "You can tell him that I'm here to give him a large serving of closure with a can of whoop-ass!"

Chad blinked, confused, and Troy could feel his fingertips growing numb. "You're looking for Ed?" Chad asked. "But—"

"Don't play dumb with me, curly!" The woman snapped, pointing a manicured finger at him. "I am armed and dangerous." She motioned to her sharp looking stilettos. "So unless you want to get a face full of Jimmy Choo, I would shut it."

"Hey, blondie, I think you had better watch it!" Chad said, standing to his full height as Troy felt his knees give out. He slumped to the ground, trying to get some air back into his lungs. What was she doing here?

"No!" she shouted, turning to the house to yell at it instead. "You tell that mother fucker to get out here because I have two boxes of his shit in the back of my convertible that my boyfriend wants out of the house and that he has a lot of explaining to do and that I hate him!"

"Look, you bitch!" Chad yelled, and Troy looked up at him, wondering how he had still not put two and two together. "Ed is dead, so you have a problem with him, then you gotta deal with a ghost!"

The blonde stopped, her shoulders slumping in shock. "What did you just say?" she said, considerably quieter. "Did you just say he was dead?"

Chad glared. "Damn straight."

She swallowed. "You had better not be joking."

"I wouldn't joke about something like that."

Silence passed over the three of them for a moment before the front door swung open, a flustered looking Gabriella standing in the doorway. She was wearing an apron and had flour dusted on her cheeks. Troy felt his heart squeeze. She had been baking cookies all afternoon as a surprise for Jeff for finally formally asking Annabel out. She looked so cute. He closed his eyes, hoping desperately that they couldn't handle what was about to happen.

"What is going on out here?" she asked, looking down at her boyfriend on the ground and an angry Chad. "What's with all the shouting?" Her eyes fell on Sharpay, whose back was to her as her shoulders shook. "Who is she?"

The woman whirled around and Gabriella felt the wind being knocked out of her. "My name is Sharpay Evans and I was, once upon a time, Edward's girlfriend. Who are you?"

"Gabriella Montez," she said in a clipped tone. "I was, once upon a time, his fiancee."

And then suddenly everything went black as Gabriella passed out. Troy jumped up and caught her before she hit the ground, scooping her up into his arms and holding her against his chest. Sharpay looked at him, her eyes flickering in recognition.

"Bolton," she said, surprised and he nodded at her.

"Hello, Sharpay," he said bitterly. "It's been a long time. Come in."

"What the hell, why are we inviting her into our house?" Chad exclaimed, annoyed, but the look Troy shot him told him that he was too keep his mouth shut.

So he did.

---

Ten minutes later, the entire household, minus Jason (who was out drinking) were piled in the living room. Gabriella had returned to consciousness almost instantly after falling out of it, but she was clinging to Troy on the couch as she sat in his lap, shaking slightly. He looked down at her, concerned. She was like a trembling puppy.

"Are okay?" he whispered in her ear softly. She nodded, swallowing thickly.

"Yeah," she murmured, biting her lip. I'm fine."

Sharpay, however, seemed less than fine. She was seated in the arm chair in the living room, guzzling down the beer Jeff had offered her and running her hands through her blonde hair. She had kicked off her shoes and her black make-up was smudged from where she had rubbed her eyes from crying.

"I can't believe he's dead," she sobbed, taking another drink of her beer. "I had absolutely no idea."

Chad smiled at her sadly. "It's hard. We all loved him."

Her eyes darted up and she glared at him. "Loved him?" she scoffed. "I loved him maybe once, but the past year I have hated the bastard. Loathed him. And obviously, I had good reason, too." Her eyes fell on Gabriella and she squeezed them shut. "I had no idea about you. Honestly."

Gabriella bit her lip. "I didn't know about you either."

Sharpay laughed bitterly. "Oh, fuck this man!" she screeched, sobbing into her palms. "He wines and dines me for six fucking months, tells me I'm his world, that he loves me to pieces and that I'm everything he's ever wanted, and the whole fucking time he has a girlfriend! For three years! You were there before I even came along! I can't believe this!"

Chad was at her side in an instant. "It's not your fault," he said, rubbing her back as she cried harder. "None of us knew what he was really like."

"I still can't believe he's dead! I can't believe that I wasn't even an important enough part of his life that I would find out! He's been dead almost eight months and I had no idea. None what so ever!"

She swiped away some of her tears, hiccuping. "I can't believe all of this happened..."

Troy tightened his arms around Gabriella, who was still shaking. He felt sick to his stomach. The look on her face when she saw Sharpay scared him. He had never seen her look so vulnerable, so shocked and distraught. Fuck, fuck, fuck Edward for leaving them with this mess. Fuck him for not tying up his loose ends.

"I know this may be hard," Jeff said from his spot against the wall, "But is there any way you can tell us your side of the story? Maybe then we can get a better idea of what happened..."

Troy's grip on Gabriella's waist tightened even further. "No, Jeff, don't, she doesn't..." he looked down at the woman in his arms. "She doesn't need to hear that."

"No," Gabriella interjected firmly. "I was his fiancee, Troy, not you. I want to know."

The tone of her voice hit Troy in a way he hadn't expected. Suddenly, the full affect of what was happening came over him. Gabriella was Edward's ex-fiancee. She had loved him. Maybe...maybe there was a part of her that still loved him. It would explain her trembling and it would explain why she was so eager to know. Still, he couldn't help but want to deter her off that path.

"Gabriella," he said softly, "maybe we should—"

"No, Troy!" she spat, shifting in his arms. "She's here now and I have known about this for nearly four months and I want to hear what she has to say!"

Troy closed his mouth then, feeling the sting of her words, but he leaned back, loosing his grip on her ever so slightly. He glanced at Sharpay who was watching them with curious, watery eyes.

"What do you want me to say?" she asked quietly.

"Why don't you," Jeff licked his lips. "Just give us a brief summary of what happened between you two?"

Sharpay let out a shaky breath and nodded. "Okay. A year and a half ago, I had had a shitty day at work, one of the worst. So I took the drive out to Toluca Lake to head to my favourite diner to get some decent food. While I was there, I met Edward, who invited me to sit with he and Troy. We hit it off instantly and for the next week or so, we spent every night together."

Troy felt Gabriella stiffen in his arms. He tried desperately to think of some way to soothe her, but nothing was coming to his mind. He closed his eyes tighter. Why was she reacting this way?

"I loved him," Sharpay said, closing her eyes as the tears trickled down her cheeks. "I loved him with my whole heart and he told me he loved me, too. We did the long distance thing for a long time, but he would always come to visit me. I suppose, I probably should have thought something was weird about that. Something about the fact that he would never let me come see him in Albuquerque. But I was so taken in by everything, by his looks, his charm, his words...I would have done anything he asked."

The room was silent as they registered Sharpay's words. Gabriella was still shaking in Troy's arms, wringing her hands together now. He grabbed one of them and enlaced her fingers with his, trying to calm her, but she shot him a look that showed how fragile and scared she was. It scared _him_ even more.

"Then, about nine months ago, everything changed. He flew down to see me one week and told me that he had to figure some things out. That he was making important life decisions and that he wasn't sure I was included in them anymore," Sharpay said, her voice cracking. "I was devastated. Although he was being a complete bastard, I wanted him to hold on. I didn't want to let him go. So he told me he would think about it and that he would call me and that we'd go from there."

She swallowed, her chin trembling as she cried. "But I guess what it comes down to is that he never called and all this time I thought it was because he was done with me," she buried her face in her hands. "I know now it was because he _died_."

No one said anything, the only sound in the room was Sharpay's sobbing. "And now," she choked out, "and now I know why he wanted to break things off. Because he had a fiancee!" She looked at Gabriella with her bloodshot eyes, mascara covering her face. "Because he wanted to marry you! Because out of the two of us, he loved you more!"

Troy suddenly felt a wetness on his arms and he realized, panicked, that Gabriella was crying. She jumped out of his arms and bounded up the steps as he sat there, shocked.

"Gabriella!" he called, running to get her, but Sharpay grabbed his wrist, pulling back.

"Don't!" she hissed. "You have no idea what she's going through! She just found out things about the man she loved that she should have never known. Don't you even try to comfort her! It will only make things worse!"

Troy yanked his arm out of her grasp. "What the fuck do you know, Evans?" he hissed. "You appear at our door out of no where and try to psychoanalyze us? Fuck you! You're the one that's fucked up everything, it was your words that made her cry!"

"Oh, yeah?" Sharpay laughed humorously. "No, Bolton, it was him. It was her love for him that made her cry and maybe that fact that she still loves him, too."

Troy blanched. "She doesn't."

"How do you know?" she asked. "He _loved_ her, Bolton, he was going to marry her. I saw it in his eyes when he came to see me that there was someone else, that he loved someone more than me and that person was her." She scoffed. "Unless he had a third one of us stashed away somewhere. But she has every reason to still love him, she did so for, how long did you say? Three years? You think she got over it in what, six months? No. He loved her, despite all the shit he did to her, that bastard. Despite that, you don't forget something like that."

Troy swallowed, "Yeah, well I love her, too."

"Really?" Sharpay said, her eyes filling with tears. "Well, I loved him. And look where that got me."

With that she broke down into tears and Troy stepped into the kitchen instead of following Gabriella upstairs, grabbing a beer and downing it, trying to rid his head of Sharpay's words that were now running on loop.

Gabriella didn't still love Edward. Did she? Her reaction was awfully strong for someone that had moved on. He took another gulp of beer, yearning to get rid of the pain in his chest.

Dammit, he thought. If he was being honest, the idea that Gabriella was still in love with Edward had plagued him almost everyday, but the way she had looked at him and kissed his lips made him think otherwise. Now, this coupled with Chad's earlier words...he wasn't so sure.

Either way, he knew he hadn't felt a pain this raw and this real since Edward had proposed to Gabriella. It was eating him alive and it had only just begun. And this time, he couldn't just hop in his truck and drive back to his house from Taylor's place. This time, she was there. She was _everywhere_.

He glanced over at the oven and saw her cookies sitting on top, perfectly round and golden and he felt himself break as he realized what he had to do.

---

Troy staggered up the stairs an hour later, looking to get some sleep. He passed the closed door to Gabriella's room, not wanting to disturb her. She needed to be alone and he needed to think, needed to put this off as long as he could. But when he stepped into his room, he was more than slightly surprised to see Gabriella sitting on the edge of his bed. He had expected her to go to her own room, spend time alone. Not go to his.

Her frame was stiff, tense; her shoulders pulled back and her posture rigid. Her knees were pressed together and her hands folded in her lap tightly as her bottom lip trembled. Her face was pale and her eyes glossy, hair tied in a loose, messy bun at the back of her head. She looked tired and she looked broken. It scared him.

Seeing her like this broke his heart and he resisted his first urge which was to bound across the room and pull her into his arms. Instead, he remained where he was and leaned against the back of the door, watching her. She didn't even seem to notice he was there.

Things had been going so extremely well. Of course they couldn't last. Of course something had to come along and ruin everything between them. Why had Sharpay come? Why did she need to bring Edward back into their lives?

But remembering the way Gabriella had run out of the room at Sharpay's revelations...had he ever really left? Had Gabriella ever really healed? Looking at her now, he swallowed the lump in his throat. Why had she reacted the way she did?

He could chock it up to three things. Number one, that Edward's death would always be hard, because all deaths were. Number two, that it was simply too much to take and was drudging up old memories and number three, the one that despite everything he was telling himself, Troy felt was the one that was most accurate.

That she wasn't over Edward and that this thing she had with him had simply been a rebound.

He didn't want to think that way, he wanted to believe that she was falling in love with him like she claimed she was. But everything had moved so fast; they had gotten together so quickly. It had been a whirlwind of emotions, confessions and lips, teeth and tongue. A shudder ran through him as he wondered if it every really amounted to anything more than lust.

He cleared his throat and her head snapped up, finally acknowledging his presence. Her eyes were large and watery and his heart cracked a little bit at the sight of them.

"Hi," she said quietly, wiping at her eyes. "I...um..." She began to cry again. "Sorry."

He couldn't take it anymore and came to sit next to her. God he should have stayed where he was. If he had, he wouldn't do what he was about to. He should have gone to her room to check on her. Then he would have realized that she was in his and stayed there, avoiding this.

But he was slightly drunk and more than a little depressed and more than anything, he knew what he had to do. He had to let her go so she could heal.

Even if it broke his heart.

He came and sat next to her on the bed and brought his hand to the back of her neck, caressing the skin softly. "Hey, hey," he said as she trembled, still crying. "It's okay."

"This has been a crazy night," she choked out. "It's so hard...feeling this way."

Troy flinched. Feeling what way? He wanted to ask, but instead he bit his lip. "I think you and I should talk, Gabriella."

Her eyes flickered up to his again. "About what? About Sharpay? How did she get here anyways? Oh, god..."

"No," he swallowed, bringing her face closer to his. "About us."

He kissed her languidly, softly, wanting to memorize the feel of her lips against his as a part of him knew this would be their last. She responded back as always, but he felt the wetness against his cheeks and knew things could never be the same. They couldn't go back now and they couldn't move forward. Breaking apart from her, he rested his forehead against hers before speaking.

"Gabriella," he swallowed the lump forming in his throat, "I don't...I don't think we should do this...right now."

Gabriella pulled back, startled at his suggestion. It had come from nowhere, straight out of left field. She stared at him, eyes wide in confusion. "Do what right now?" she asked, her voice quiet and shaky. "Kiss?"

"No," Troy said, shaking his head. "I mean...this. You and me. Us. It's not...it's not _righ_t, right now. You're not...you're not ready."

Gabriella jumped up, wanting his hands off of her. They seemed to burn her skin. "What are you insinuating?" she asked, shaken to her core. "That you...you want to end this?"

Troy sighed. "It's not that I _want_ to, it's just...you're not ready, Gabriella, you haven't healed."

"What do you mean, I haven't healed?" she asked, feeling hurt and angry. "I've healed plenty, I'm good, I'm better now!"

"No," Troy said sadly, "you haven't. We moved too quickly, Gabriella. Too fast, we jumped head first into this. Maybe...maybe all you...all _we_ needed, was someone to cling to."

She blinked at him, tears rapidly filling her eyes. "What are you saying, Troy?" she swallowed. "That this has all been a rebound?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "Has it been?"

"No!" She exclaimed, suddenly feeling desperate. "It has never been a rebound, Troy! What I feel for you is real!"

"I'm not saying it isn't, Gabriella," Troy said quietly, timidly as he rose to stand beside her. "But that doesn't mean that it wasn't...a, _you know_." He couldn't bring himself to say the word. "You needed someone to show that they loved you. That you were still capable of it after everything that you had been through. I understand, you went through a lot." Had the alcohol affected his brain? Where had these thoughts come from? He bit his lip, trying to push them away, worried that they had been lingering there all along.

"Troy, that's not true at all!" she protested. "This has just been a lot to take in, a lot to register! Of course I'm going to be upset! Why are you jumping to conclusions? I do not still love Edward! What he and I had wasn't real!"

"Oh, yeah?" Troy snapped. "Did you know you're supposed to take the time you were in a relationship with someone and double it for the healing period after it's over? You were with Edward for three years, so you should have waited six _years_, not less six months! Edward hadn't even been gone six months and we spent every night in each other's beds, in each other's arms!"

"Six years!" Gabriella exclaimed. "Six years? Are you insane! Troy, what I feel for you is real! What I felt for Edward was in the past!"

"Then why did you run out of the room when Sharpay told you he broke things off with her?" he said harshly. "If it doesn't matter, then why?"

Gabriella paused, her mouth falling open before she closed it again. "I...I...what?"

"You ran out of the room, Gabriella," Troy said softly. "You were crying. I haven't seen you cry like that since...since this all started."

"It was just..." she looked down, biting her lip. "It was nothing."

"Then why are you crying now?" he asked gently. "Why were you crying when I came into this room?"

"I...it's nothing, it didn't mean—"

"Gabriella," Troy said tiredly. "Please just be honest with yourself. Please just be honest with me."

"He just...I just..." she felt her lip tremble again as a tear fell down her cheek. "I..."

"Just say it, Gabriella," he said weakly, feeling his composure breaking.

Staring at him, she felt her knees grow weak and she collapsed to the ground, one knee smacking against the floorboards. Her head fell into her hands and tears fell from her eyes. "Maybe," she began, slowly, "I can't help but think....he broke things off with her, Troy. Maybe...maybe he did love me. Maybe...maybe he wanted to get married as much as I did."

At her words, his heart broke. He knew she had been thinking them, but to hear her say them? To hear her confirm his worst thoughts? It was excruciating. Oh, he should have known this was going to happen. He had spent three years waiting for her. If something was going to happen between them, something that was going to build over time, it would have happened. Not now. Fate would have stepped in and lent a hand instead of waiting until Edward was out of the picture. He had been so foolish.

But he had loved her so much, so desperately, he would have given anything to be with her. Why would he deny himself the pleasure of holding her in his arms, kissing her lips, making her laugh? Even though in the long run all it was going to do was cause him pain, at least he had her. At least he had her briefly.

"I see," Troy said, looking anywhere but her. He came and slumped down on the ground beside her, resting his head on her shoulder.

"I can't help but think these things, Troy," she sobbed. "I can't help it..."

"But there lies your answer, Gabriella," Troy choked out as he pressed a shaky kiss to the bare skin of her arm. "Even if we were to try to work things out, get past this...Edward would be sitting on the edge of everything thought, everything we do. In the corner of every room, of every day." He swallowed again. "There's a reason you chose him in the first place."

"Because I'm an idiot!" she exclaimed, burying her head in his chest. He felt her hot tears scald his skin through his T-shirt. "I picked him because I was stupid and I will always regret it."

"But you loved him," Troy said, "at one time you did and you haven't moved on fully yet. You...You need to move on on your own. You need to work some things out and I can't be here to do it. You need to become whole again on your own." He sighed. "I can't be the one to put you back together again."

"We moved so quickly, Gabriella. One moment we were yelling at each other, the next we were tearing each other's clothes off," he said, "When in that short period of time did you have time to heal? To move on from Edward? Even though he did awful things to you, that didn't erase what you felt for him."

"But that doesn't mean that what I felt for you was simply a feeling of convenience, Troy!" Gabriella said desperately, clinging to his shirt. "It doesn't mean that I don't....that I don't..."

"Don't what?" he said, lifting his head to look at her, his eyes hopeful. If only she were to say it. It could save everything. Say it, he urged silently.

_Say it, say it, say it._

"I..." she let out a choked sob. She couldn't do it. "I want to say it so badly, Troy, I do. I want to say it to you over and over again, but I....I _can't_."

"Shh," he murmured, running a hand through her hair. "And you shouldn't have to, Gabriella. If you don't feel it, you shouldn't say it."

"But it will make you stay," she sobbed.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "And that's no reason to say it, then."

"Please, please don't do this," Gabriella pleaded. She didn't want him to go. She wanted him to stay. She needed him to stay. "I need you..."

He looked at her, smiling sadly. "I love you, Gabriella. I've loved you for three years and I will always love you, but I can't do this anymore. Not like this," he swallowed. He wanted to be with her, but right now he needed to be selfish. He couldn't be with her when she still was in love with Edward. Dealing with that was harder than not being with her.

"Troy," she sobbed into his chest. "Please, please, don't go. We can work this out, we can get past this, through this. Don't leave..."

"I love you, Gabriella," he repeated again, "And one day you will find someone who you can say those words back to and you will mean them. But I..." he paused, feeling his throat tighten up. "I'm not that man and I never will be. And so I'm going to let you go."

She threw her arms around him, desperate for him not to move. "Please, please, Troy, let's talk about this," she mumbled, unsure if she was even saying words through her sobs.

"I love you," he said firmly and she knew it would be the last time she would hear those words fall from his lips. "I always will and no matter how things happened, no matter the circumstances, I will always be thankful that I got to spend at least one day with you in my arms."

With that she crumpled against him and he lifted her under the knees, taking her over to his bed and laying her down. As he turned to walk away, worried that his emotions were going to get the better of him, he felt her grasp onto his wrist. He looked at her slowly.

Her eyes were red and swollen and she was shaking, tears streaming down her face. "Please don't go," she whispered. "Stay."

Realizing that he would never be able to deny her much of anything, he turned back and carefully walked around to his side of the bed, climbing in beside her. She rolled over to face him and grabbed his hand, lacing her fingers with his own and squeezing them tightly. She brought her other hand to his face and touched the curve of his cheek as she sobbed. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and rubbed her hand with his thumb, lulling her to a calm. Slowly, her breath evened out and her eyes grew heavy and she fell asleep.

When she woke the next morning, however, feeling slightly chilly, she on instinct went to cuddle into his chest, only to find his side of the bed empty, a single white envelope resting on top of his grey beanie in his place. She picked it up, slightly confused, until her dreamy subconscious drifted away and reality set in. Suddenly, yesterday's events overcame her and she burst into tears, holding the envelope to her chest as she sobbed.

She, Gabriella Montez, was completely and entirely broken.

--

LOL I HAVE NO LIFE. This is what happens when your friends all have part time jobs and none of you are the legal drinking age. (Like that's stopped anyone before)

Okay, so. I thought long and hard about the pacing of this chapter. Originally, I was going to build up to it, but I decided to think about it in a very realistic sense, which seems odd given the content. The amount of drama and events I wanted to portray, in real life, there is no build up. They just happen when you least expect it and fuck everything up. Which is, essentially, what this did. Also, when drama like this occurs, you do not act rationally. You can, of course, but it's more difficult and most decisions are based on emotions.

That is why things transpired as they did, based on shitty, unexpected drama and emotions. Troy is an artist and terribly insecure about his relationship with Gabriella. There will be way more on this and on Sharpay's background in the new few chapters, so hold on tight and I hope you enjoy the ride.

Hey, does this count as my suicide chapter, guys?

Also, there's not one, not two, but three tracks for this chapter, one for each scene. So enjoy!

Special thanks goes out to Silvia, Tiffany and my bestie, Jacqui, for your opinions on pacing and drama and all that jazz. I love you all very much, especially my Twitter buddies, S&T! Love you girls!

As a side note, at 7:00 PM this evening, I lost about six pages of this chapter and had to start all over again. It sucked.

A lot.


	15. The Defeated

---

**Mamihlapinatapei**

Yaghan, noun: a look shared between two people with each wishing the other will initiate something that which both desire, but neither wants to start.

---

He didn't want to leave her.

Really, it was the last thing he ever wanted to do to her, but seeing her cry, hearing that she only wanted to say the words to make him stay...how could he do anything _but _leave? She wasn't ready to be with someone else and he was no longer willing to wait.

God, it hurt, though, it hurt like a bitch. After leaving her in his bed (the connotations of that alone killed him), he had wondered briefly, where he would attempt to get some sleep. Her room was off limits; there was no way he was spending the night surrounded by every inch of her being, and Sharpay was currently staying on their couch. So instead, he decided to venture to his studio, where he'd try to attempt to get the tiniest bit of sleep sitting in his desk chair.

His chair proved to be rather uncomfortable rather quickly, so instead, he booted up his Mac and decided he might as well get some work done. Only in his fuzzy state of mind, he had forgotten that he had set his desktop background to a picture of Gabriella in the garden a couple of a weeks ago and it all came flooding back, hitting him again.

Staring at her image, he hadn't felt so pathetic in years. She was so beautiful, but it wasn't just her beauty that made her so special. It was her laugh, it was the way she walked, the way she smiled. It was the kindness she exuded unknowingly; in the tender way she cared for her flowers, in her pursuit of Jeff's happiness, the meals she made for them without question. Everything she did, she did with the intentions of someone else. He groaned.

Why did things have to fuck themselves up so quickly? Things had been going so great and now they were over. But was there any way to go back? Was there anyway to fix what they had? Troy couldn't find any way to make that happen. They couldn't move forward when Gabriella was constantly hanging onto the past. And he couldn't wait in limbo any longer.

But he himself, _he_ needed to move forward. He needed to let her go; she needed to be a part of _his_ past. He needed a fresh start, a new chapter. Glancing around the room, his eyes fell on his portfolio and he realized what he needed to do.

Turning his attention back to his computer, he dragged the folder of Gabriella's pictures to the recycling bin. He shuddered as the computer made the sound of crumpling paper, notifying him that it had been deleted. Had he really just done that? He looked at the empty recycling bin. Oh, Jesus, he had. No, no, he thought, come back, come back!

No, another voice in his head said firmly, stop that. Next step. Now. He swallowed, before taking a deep breath and shutting down his computer. He pulled out a piece of blank paper from the printer, grabbed a pen and began writing.

Troy did not consider himself eloquent, not in the slightest. But he needed Gabriella to understand how he felt, he needed her to understand just how hard this was for him, about why he was doing it. He needed her to know how much she meant to him and how much she would always mean to him and for her sake, he wished that she would be able to forget about Edward, forget about him and learn to love fully again.

Capping his pen, he finished the letter before sticking it in an envelope, his heart pounding. You can do this, he said to himself, you can do this.

But when he walked into his room a moment later, he realized he couldn't. She looked so peaceful, lying his bed, wrapped up in his comforter. Her eyelids were flickering, and he knew that meant she was dreaming. He could only hope it was a good one.

A part of him longed to go slide back into bed with her and forget this whole thing, but a larger, stronger part of himself willed him not to. And so he didn't. Instead, he removed his beanie and set it on his side of the bed, placing the letter on top. He ran a hand over her hair for the last time, and pressed his lips to her forehead.

"I love you," he whispered. "Always."

Now it was step three, the final step. He needed to leave. He would come back later, maybe when she was at work or out some where, and gather his belongings. He couldn't do it now.

Stepping down the stairs, he tried to be as quiet as he could. The household seemed to be completely frozen; Jeff, Chad and Gabriella all asleep and Jason hadn't arrived home yet. Troy glanced at the clock. Five oh nine. Damn. Making his way to the front door, he tried desperately to barrel on through, not lose his momentum. If he did, he would choke.

"Where are you going at five in the morning?" A female voice said and Troy jumped, startled to hear anyone at all. It was so quiet in the house, that her voice cut through the air like a boom. He glanced around slowly before locating the source; an exhausted looking Sharpay Evans, laying on the same couch he had occupied for nearly two months.

Her hair was rumpled and there were still visible mascara tracks on her cheeks. Her eyes were red and puffy and she was still wearing the pink dress she arrived in, minus the belt. She sat up on the couch and slung her arms over the back of it, staring up at him.

He blinked at her, not wanting to explain to anyone, least of all to her. "Go back to sleep Sharpay. It's late." He paused. "Or, early, depending on your preference."

"It's late," she said tiredly with a sigh. "So why are you up and appearing to be leaving the premises?"

He groaned, not wanting the interrogation. He just wanted to leave, just wanted to escape this house that was no longer his home, but a testament to everything that had gone wrong in his life. Every mistake he had made, every lie he told on Edward's behalf, every moment he had pined after Gabriella. _He needed out._

"Just go back to sleep," he responded. "You look exhausted."

Sharpay rolled her eyes. "Really, Bolton, of course I'm exhausted. You think you woke me with your quiet as a mouse tiptoeing? No, I've been up all this time. Now please, offer me some entertainment, or at least a distraction and let me know where you're off to. Cause if you're going anywhere like the store or the twenty-four hour supermarket, could you pick up some cookie dough ice cream? And maybe some vodka."

Troy looked around the room confused. "There's a twenty-sixer of vodka in the freezer," he said nonchalantly.

"What kind?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Smirnoff."

She nodded, her eyes drifting over to the kitchen. "You're a good man, Bolton," she said, biting her lip. "Any juice in there? Like, orange juice?" Upon seeing his nod, she gave him a sly smile. "How about we mix us up a couple of screwdrivers and you and I can commiserate about how the people we loved were inevitably in love with each other?"

Troy let out a scoff, turning to the door again. "I'd rather not, thanks."

"Okay, okay!" Sharpay hissed. "Just figured I'd ask. I like having a drinking buddy here, to be honest. It doesn't make it so lonely, then. But whatever, I'm fine with drinking on my own if I have to. But seriously, though, where the hell are you going at this hour?"

Troy grit his teeth and turned around. "I'm leaving, if that's what you're asking. I'm going to go stay at a friend's house for a few days."

Sharpay blinked, obviously not anticipating this to be his answer. "You're leaving? Why?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. God, how could Edward stand this girl? She was so nosey, so inquisitive. The exact opposite of Gabriella...

Maybe that was why.

"Yes, I'm leaving," he said, annoyed. "I just told you that."

"Wait, wait," Sharpay said, sitting up straight and lifting a hand. "You're leaving or you're leaving_ her_?"

Troy blanched. One thing he had not expected was for Sharpay to be perceptive. "Isn't it the same thing?"

She shook her head. "Not in the slightest. You leave to stay at a friend's house for a few days, it means that you're coming back. You're not abandoning her and you'll be together again."

She paused, letting the words sink in. Her voice dropped an octave when she continued. "If you're leaving her, you're finished. You're _not_ coming back. So which is it, Bolton?"

He bit his lip, weighing his options. If he really wanted to, he could climb the stairs and go crawl back into bed with Gabriella. He could take a day to think bout it and they could maybe fix things, maybe move forward. On the other hand, he could walk out that door, move out of the house and start fresh. Live a life that didn't involve Gabriella or Edward or Sharpay. Live a life that didn't hurt so much.

He turned to her then, and looked her dead in the eye. "I'm leaving her."

Sharpay bristled, pursing her lips. "You leave her, Troy, and you're just as bad as Edward. It's another way of saying you don't believe in her. You waited three years for her, how can you just give up now?"

Troy glared at her. "How do you know all this?"

She shrugged. "Chad told me. He's like a fountain when he starts drinking." She sighed. "You really can't believe that she's that incapable of healing, Troy."

"I believe in her Sharpay," Troy responded. "I believe that one day she can move on and love again after Edward, but I don't think it's with me and honestly? I've spent too much time mulling over what ifs with that woman. I can't do it anymore. You have to understand that."

"Oh yeah?" she cocked an eyebrow. "How?"

"Because you're here," he said simply. "You came all this way to tell Edward that you needed to move on because it hurt too much. That you were sick of waiting of being put second to something you didn't even know existed. You want to be loved and so do I. You no longer want to the third party, you want to come first. I no longer want to have to compete with someone who's dead."

Sharpay didn't say anything for a moment, biting her lip and looking down. Troy grasped the handle for the front door, pausing as he stepped over the threshold.

"We're the same, Sharpay," he said quietly. "We're different, but really, we're exactly the same. You were right. We're both in love with people who are in love with each other."

"Only I don't love him anymore," Sharpay said briskly. "Edward Guerin isn't the be all and end all to me. To anyone."

"But he is to Gabriella," Troy said, turning in the doorway to look at her. "And I don't care if it's selfish, but I can't sit around and deal with that any longer.

"Really?" Sharpay said, folding her arms. She rose off the couch and came to stand in front of him. "The way she was holding on to you for support last night, Troy, I wouldn't be so sure." She sighed heavily, looking at him up and down.

"When I met you, Troy, you were nothing but loyal. You didn't want me to sit with you guys, but you were considerate enough to let me stay," she smiled at him sadly. "But your loyalty has gotten you no where. You can't be loyal to Edward forever. You can't let him dictate your life from his grave. He can't have power over you anymore, he can't control what you have with Gabriella, whatever it is."

Troy's eyes were wide. How had this woman, this relative stranger, hit the nail on the head so instantly? It was something no one had ever stated to him, no matter how obvious it was. Despite this, however, he turned to walk out the door again.

"I left a note with Gabriella, but I..." he swallowed, "I don't know if she's going to read it. Tell the guys I left and for one of them to catch me on my cell. I'll give them the details of what I'm doing next."

"You really think this is going to make things better, Troy?" Sharpay said as he walked down the porch steps. "You really think this is going to fill the Gabriella shaped void you've been holding on to?"

Troy laughed bitterly. "Nothing's going to fill that void, Sharpay," he called, opening the door to his truck. "But at least this way, it won't get bigger." He waved to her as he backed out of the driveway and turned down the street, leaving behind one giant chunk of his life that he wasn't certain he was ready to let go of.

He reached into his back pocket, shifting on the seat, and pulled out his cell phone. It was still early, but he could always leave a message. Dialing the number, he pressed his phone to his ear and waited for the voicemail to pick up.

Once it did, he listened to the chirpy greeting and waited for the beep. "Hi, Janelle," he began, "it's Troy Bolton calling. I just wanted to let you know that I've given it some thought and I'd love to take that position if it's still available. I can be in the city as early as next week. Give me a call back and I hope we can work something out."

With that, he hung up and tossed his phone on the console, trying to shove the pain in his chest away and search for a small speck of excitement for the next giant chunk of his life.

Hopefully, this one he wouldn't regret.

---

Gabriella all but stumbled down the stairs the next morning, her eyes red and puffy. She sniffled as she made her way into the kitchen, wrapped up in one of Troy's old hoodies that she had pulled from his dresser. It smelled like him and right now, all she wanted was to have that small comfort.

Why had she been so stupid? Why had she reacted so strongly to what Sharpay had said? She was moving on, she really was. Maybe she wasn't completely healed, maybe she wasn't completely over Edward, but she was getting there. For Troy to think that what she had felt for him was a rebound was heartbreaking. Not absurd, it made sense, but it was so, so heartbreaking.

It wasn't a rebound, it really hadn't been. It was merely bad timing; the realization of who she should have been with all along and the painful acceptance that she had made a huge mistake unknowingly, causing her to regret years of her life for her actions. But a rebound? No. Sure, having Troy around had eased the pain and the hurt that Edward had caused, but that was before she had realized she was falling in love with him. The looks he gave her were too real, the way she had felt when he kissed her lips too strong. The beating of her heart too quick and the flush on her cheeks too prominent. The way his hands had felt on her skin and the warmth of his body against hers. Everything was far too important to her, far too real and far too wonderful. There was no way she had conjured it all up in an attempt to heal.

The house was very quiet; it was only after six AM and everyone else seemed to be asleep. Gabriella hadn't gotten the courage to read Troy's letter and a part of her wondered if she would ever be able to. She glanced in the living room on the way to the kitchen. Jason was passed out on the couch, as per usual. She furrowed her brow. Wasn't Sharpay there?

Stepping in the kitchen, she found the blonde woman sitting at the kitchen table, a carton of orange juice and a bottle of vodka beside it. She raised a glass to her mouth and took a sip, before sighing.

"That one, over there," she said, pointing to Jason sprawled out on the sofa, "Came staggering in fifteen minutes ago and collapsed on top of me." She paused. "I want him killed."

Despite the awkward situation between the two of them, Gabriella found herself oddly calm. She sat down and rolled her eyes. "I think we all have at one point or another," she said quietly, giving a little sniffle.

Sharpay's eyes flickered over to her. "Rough night?" she asked, taking in Gabriella's red eyes. Gabriella stared back at her, glaring. "Oh, right." Sharpay nodded. "Good point. Juice?"

Gabriella nodded and Sharpay stood to retrieve a glass. She poured in a quick splash of orange juice and then drowned the rest of the glass with vodka before handing it to Gabriella. She grimaced.

"It's six in the morning," she said, her voice raspy and Sharpay stared at her pointedly.

"Like you're in any position to deny yourself hard liquor," she said and Gabriella shrugged, realizing she was right before taking a sip. God, it was strong.

A beat passed between them and Sharpay took a deep breath, before setting her glass down on the table. "I want to say something and I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but I'd really appreciate it if you didn't interrupt."

Gabriella nodded slowly. "Sure..."

"Okay, here goes," Sharpay said, downing the rest of her drink and turning to Gabriella. "I am sorry. I am desperately, hopelessly, irrevocably sorry." Her eyes began to swim with tears and Gabriella was shocked at the sincerity in her words. "I know it sounds like bullshit; I'm the other woman, but I honestly never knew about you."

She let out another breath, trying to even out her breathing. "I don't care if you believe me or not, but I want you to know that if I had known about you, I would not have carried on with things the way they were. I am not like that. I know you will never be able to determine whether or not I'm lying, but it's the truth. I don't expect your forgiveness, and more than anything I want to know for myself that I told you all this, but what Edward did to us was unforgivable, and more than anything, I like to think that I would have come here and told you what was going on so we could both cut him up into pieces."

Gabriella smiled weakly and Sharpay continued. "So yes, I am sorry. I am sorry for all the pain I caused you and I am sorry for the mess I created."

Gabriella didn't say anything for a moment, running her finger along the rim of her cup, taking in Sharpay's words. "You want to know something funny?" she said suddenly.

"He was cheating on both of us with one of the guys?" Sharpay said dryly. "But yes, I would."

Letting out a deep breath, Gabriella looked at the woman in front of her. She was still wearing the same dress as she was the day before, but her face was clean of the mascara that had been covering it hours earlier. Her hair had been pulled up into a loose ponytail and despite everything, she looked calm and content. It put Gabriella at ease.

"I have imagined this moment for months," Gabriella said honestly. "I have imagined yelling at you, pointing fingers and flat out calling you awful, awful names all in an attempt to make myself feel better. Letting you know what your actions destroyed. I imagined that I would hate you." She paused, her eyes meeting Sharpay's. "And the funny thing is, sitting here beside you, I don't hate you at all. I'm not even angry at you."

"Really?" Sharpay said skeptically and Gabriella nodded.

"Really," she let out a chuckle. "In fact, a part of me, absurd as it may be, wants to thank you."

Sharpay gaped at her. "Okay, now you're talking crazy. You want to thank me?"

"I know, it _is_ crazy," Gabriella admitted, "but now that I think about it, now that I put it into perspective...if you hadn't have come along, I would have married that man. I would have given him everything, never knowing his true nature. But you happened and you threw this hitch into our plans, our perfect lives and...and now I know that I almost made the biggest mistake of my life."

Sharpay blinked, confused. "He died, Gabriella, you wouldn't have married him whether I came along or not."'

Gabriella nodded. "True. But, if you hadn't happened, if Troy hadn't have known...I never would have given him a chance." She felt her voice squeak slightly at the mention of his name. "Troy, I mean. I would have never have given him a chance."

Sharpay took a sip of her drink. "I see. Are you in love with him?"

Gabriella shrugged sadly. "I don't know. I want to be, I want to be so desperately because he is so wonderful and so amazing and...and he loves me. But a part of me is still holding on to Edward and I need to let that part go before...before anything can happen." She felt her eyes fill with tears and she let out a sob, trying to hold them back.

"All I know is...that him leaving this morning hurt more than Edward's death and that scares me. It scares me to death."

Setting her glass down, Sharpay leaned back in her chair. "It's a scary thing, isn't it? Loving someone again after your heart breaks?" Seeing Gabriella's nod, she continued. "I have a boyfriend, now, you know. One who _doesn't_ just come see me once a month, but one who _lives_ with me."

"Really?" Gabriella asked, happy for the turn in conversation. "What's he like?"

Sharpay smiled fondly, letting her head rest on the palm of her head as she let out a dreamy sigh. "His name's Zeke, he was actually my best friend. He lives with my twin brother, Ryan, and I, and he was there through the whole Edward thing. Never liked him, by the way," she added quickly. "So when Edward broke things off with me, he was there to pick up the pieces and one day....I just looked at him and I realized..."

"That you were falling in love with him," Gabriella finished, looking up when she saw Sharpay's surprised glance. "I know the feeling."

Sharpay bit her lip. "Exactly. It was like everything fell into place. Everything that had been there all along suddenly made sense. And he's wonderful, too, a baker, of all things. He owns a cupcake shop and if I wasn't so crazy about him, I would think he was a total tool." She sighed again. "But he's not, he's wonderful and he loves me and I am so thankful for him."

Gabriella smiled softly. "You're lucky to have him. Don't mess it up, okay?"

Sharpay gave her a sad smile in response. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news," she paused mid-sentence, "though I am obviously really good at it; but I saw Troy leave this morning and I...I got the impression that if he does come back, it's not going to be permanent."

Gabriella bit her lip, the pain Sharpay's words brought her indescribable. "He left me a letter, you know?" she said softly. "I can't read it."

"Maybe you should," Sharpay suggested sympathetically and Gabriella shook her head.

"I can't," she responded. "Somewhere in that letter, he'll say that he loves me and I can't hear that right now. Because he loves me, but he can't love enough for the both of us."

Sharpay scoffed, pouring herself another class of twenty-percent orange juice and eighty-percent vodka. "I hate Edward," she said bluntly.

Gabriella raised an eyebrow. "I think that's the common attitude amongst the people in this household, so you fit in just fine."

"Yeah, but I hate him because he continues to fuck things up from the grave," she growled. "It's just like the bastard. Didn't suck enough blood, so he's gotta do it in the afterlife."

"That's an awful thing to say," Gabriella whispered, but Sharpay merely shrugged.

"Maybe so, but it's true," she laughed humorously, the alcohol getting to her. "I am going to sound like a broken record, but you can't let Edward control your life anymore, Gabriella. You need to learn to live again for yourself and you really need to forget him. Otherwise, you're going to regret it."

Swishing her drink around her glass, Gabriella sighed. "Maybe. But it would have been better if I had figured this out on my own about a week ago. Then I probably wouldn't be alone right now."

Sharpay frowned. "You're not alone."

"I don't have Troy anymore," Gabriella said sadly. "I'm alone."

Sharpay swallowed, imagining what it would be like to lose Zeke. She shuddered. She had already lost Edward, but to lose the person who had helped to fix her? To help put her back together again and who had loved her and helped her love again? It would be like the pain multiplied by a tenfold.

"It's not over till it's over," Sharpay said confidently. "You can still fix things."

Gabriella shook her head. "No, it's over. Next time I see him, I'll beg and I'll plead, but it won't change anything. I know Troy and once he's made up his mind, there's no going back."

"Then why beg and plead?"

"Because I'll hate myself if I don't even try."

The girls fell into a silence, the ticking of the clock and mumbling from Jason the only things that could be heard. Sharpay broke it a moment later.

"This is kind of weird and awkward, isn't it?" she said and Gabriella giggled.

"Yeah, it's kind of awkward."

Sharpay sighed. "Damn Edward," she said, raising her glass to her mouth and taking a gulp. "If it weren't for him, and you and I had met on different circumstances, I have a feeling we'd be great friends."

Gabriella smiled. "Me too."

"Think we'll ever be friends?" Sharpay asked, turning to her.

"No," Gabriella responded, standing up and dumping her still full drink into the sink. "Unfortunately, I don't think we will be."

Sharpay nodded. "That's a shame. But I guess that's life, isn't it?" She smiled at Gabriella briefly. "You should go get some sleep. You look like shit."

"I could say the same for you," Gabriella responded and Sharpay grinned.

"Yeah, well, at least I'm wearing women's clothes right now," she said cheekily, before her expression grew serious. "But like I said, Gabriella...it's not over till it's over."

And with those parting words, Gabriella went back upstairs and this time, by-passed Troy's room and walked into her own. Grabbing his beanie that she had left on her desk beside his unopened letter, she pulled it on her head, snuggling into bed and wishing that he would come visit her in her dreams.

"_You have my hat."_

---

"You're leaving?"

Troy stilled his movements, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. God, it hurt to hear her voice. Just feeling her presence in the room was killing him. He looked up from his desk drawer slowly, before taking in her form and nodding, biting his lip.

She looked tired and small, dressed in a pair of sweatpants and,_ oh god_, one of his T-shirts. She had dark circles under her eyes and her face was pale and swallow. It hadn't even been a day, why did she look the way she did?

She stepped a little closer to him and he felt something inside him burst. The urge to hold her was so strong now, his fingertips practically itching to touch her. Taking a deep breath, he reached back into the top drawer and grabbed a stack of design magazines, just for something to occupy his hands.

"Yeah," he said, dropping the magazines into a box. Gabriella bit her lip at his lack of words. That was it? That was all he was going to say? They had come so far...how had they reversed to even further than where they were when they started?

Gabriella felt the tears fill her eyes as she surveyed his room, the one she had spent so much time in over the last few months. There were boxes nearly everywhere, his mattress stripped of the sheets and the comforter. He really was leaving.

She swallowed, trying to blink back the tears. She wouldn't let him see her like this. "Oh," she responded, looking at his back. Why wouldn't he look at her? "Where are you going?"

Troy's muscles tensed. He really didn't want to tell her; not because he thought she'd try to stop him in anyway shape or form, only because he just didn't want to talk to her. But like everything with her, he was powerless.

"New York," he said, putting several books into the box to join the magazines and then sealing it.

Her eyes lit up briefly. "So you got the job?" she asked, and she couldn't help but let a little bit of excitement seep into them. She knew he could do it.

He nodded. "Yeah, I did. I start there in a week and a half."

She mirrored his movements and nodded, looking down at the ground. "I'm proud of you," she whispered, a sense of pride sweeping over her. "I knew you could do it. You're so talented, Troy."

He looked at her then, their eyes meeting for the briefest of moments. It hurt to her the pride in her voice, see the swell of excitement in his eyes. She shouldn't be reacting this way at all. He shouldn't be leaving. He wasn't going to take the job.

Instead of saying anything of these things, he curtly nodded. "Thank you."

She broke their gaze, the look in his eyes too much for her to handle. She swallowed the lump in her throat, trying to keep her breathing steady and even. "I really wish it didn't mean you had to leave, though."

"Gabriella," Troy said, his back stiffening, his voice aggravated.

"What?" she said quietly, her voice cracking. "It's true. What do you want me to say?"

He turned to look at her and she was struck by the look on his face; the tired eyes, the dark circles and she was reminded of how that same reflection haunted her the past couple of days. More than that, though, she was reminded of the first time she saw that look on his face.

She'd always been able to relate.

"Honestly?" he said tiredly, "I kind of wish you wouldn't say anything at all."

Her mouth fell open and then closed, and he winced inwardly at the pain that shot across her face. He didn't mean to be so harsh; he just couldn't help it.

"I'm sorry for the way things happened, Troy," she said quietly and he wanted to shove her out of the room. Would she not just stop talking? Didn't she realize how much it hurt? "But they didn't have to. They don't have to be this way.

He gritted his teeth, turning his back to her. "Yes, they do."

She shook her head. "No, Troy, they don't. They've never needed to be this way, why don't you see that?"

"No, Gabriella," Troy said, turning to face her, "why don't you see _it_? Why don't you stop and take a breath and realize how complicated this situation is?"

She narrowed her eyes. "You think I don't know how complicated this is? You don't think I know how peculiar and wrong it is that I am falling in love with my dead fiancee's best friend? You think I haven't spent nights mulling over that very subject?" When he didn't say anything, she took a breath and continued on bravely. "Because I have. This is the most fucked up, wrong situation and I was so caught up in the romanticism of it, so crazy about you that I didn't notice."

He swallowed. That was the exact wrong thing for her to say. "That's exactly it, Gabriella," he said, his voice cracking, "you were so caught up in the r_omanticism_. It was _lust_. It wasn't real."

"Oh, but it was Troy, it really, really was," she looked at him with watery eyes. "Why can't you see that? Why are you so blinded by the negatives between us that you can no longer see the good? That you picked me up when I was nothing? That you've helped me heal and you've made me feel things I've never felt before? I am falling in love you with you, and yes, it's a little messed up and a little fast, but do you think that makes me want to let go?" she swallowed, biting her lip as the tears trickled down her face. "No. That just makes me want to hold on even more."

"You _were _falling in love with me," he said his eyes were nearly emotionless at this point. "You aren't anymore."

"How do you know? I can't forget that easily, Troy," she said, swiping away her tears. "Just because you want to erase what happened because I can't erase Edward doesn't mean that I do."

"But I can't share you, Gabriella," he responded hotly and she jumped, startled by his tone of voice. "I've waited for you for three years, three fucking years, Gabriella. I have tried to let you go time and time again, tried so damn hard to find what I saw in you in someone else and every time they fell short."

"Troy—" she tried to interject, covering her face with her hands.

"I've waited for three years, Gabriella," his voice was shaky, broken and it killed her to hear it. "And then one day, I had you. But I have always wanted all of you; not bits and pieces, not just as a friend, not just as Edward's girlfriend, but just you, just Gabriella Montez. I will not share you and frankly, it's easier not having you than having to compete with a ghost."

"But you're not!" Gabriella cried, feeling desperate all over again. "It's doesn't have to be like this."

"Gabriella, it's always needed to be like this," Troy said, exasperated. "From the moment you danced with Edward at the wedding, it was always going to be like this. You firmly attached to him and me on the outside, looking in. You picked _him_, you wanted _him_. Not me."

He paused them. "I know you saw me watching you while you two danced, Gabriella," he said and she flinched, reminded of the way his blue eyes had watched her. She had known why they followed them. She had know what he wanted. "You knew what it meant and you did nothing. You wanted him. You say you're falling in love with me, but you were _in love _with him. There's a difference, a vast difference, and honestly?" he swallowed, trying to keep his emotions at bay, "honestly right now it hurts too much for me to wait around until that difference disappears."

Gabriella blinked, her tears blurring her vision. "What are you saying, Troy? That you can't wait around for me to heal? You just expect me to fall at your feet and erase everything I ever felt for Edward and love you completely? Do you know how selfish that is?"

"Do you know how selfish you are? You're expecting me to wait around! I can't wait anymore Gabriella, I can't!" He snapped. "It's not worth it."

Their eyes met then and Troy was taken aback by the hurt in hers, the look on her face. She looked as if he had slapped her. He bit his tongue, wishing he could take the words back.

"Gabriella," he said suddenly, reaching out to her, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that—"

"But you did," Gabriella pressed a hand over her eyes, her lower lip trembling as she cried. "You did. And you're right, I'm not worth it. I've done terrible things to you and now I expect you to wait for me?" She let out a little sob and he rushed forward, attempting to embrace her, but she lifted her arms.

"No," she mumbled, pushing him back. "No. You're right. This is for the best. This is how things should be. They should be like this. So go."

"Gabriella..."

"Go to New York, Troy," she whispered, still crying silently. "Go to New York and live. Move on, forget about me. Find someone who's worth it."

He didn't say anything, instead watched as she turned her back to him and walked out of the room, sniffling as she closed the door behind her. He stood there for a moment, taking in what had just happened, before turning back to his desk and continuing to empty it's contents out into the boxes.

In the top drawer, however, underneath a stack of his student's photography assignments, he found the Polaroid he had taken of Gabriella the day they painted her room. He took in the paint splattered on her flushed cheeks, the happiness dancing in her eyes and her soft black curls fanned around her face. Feeling his composure weaken, he crumpled to the floor by his desk, letting the photo slip from his fingers.

"But _you're_ worth it," Troy said, letting his head fall into his hands.

And then, he broke.

---

I think I have a problem.

When I was using my lame HP laptop, I went through two power cords. Both broke at the connection between the plug and the wire. Now that I have my Mac, the power cord broke in the exact same spot.

WHAT AM I DOING WRONG? Needless to say, I am now $112.99 broke. :( And my work got in the cutest little black ankle boots. Woe.

I am sorry this took so long to get up, but I saw Harry Potter last night instead of writing. I KNOW, I SUCK, BUT HARRY POTTER, PEOPLE! I still haven't recovered and am thinking I will promptly pass out after posting this.

Next chapter will be soon. I don't know how soon; it could be as early as tomorrow or as late as Saturday. We shall see.

Two tracks this chapter! One from Gabi's POV and one from Troy's. Enjoy!


	16. The Everything

---

**Mamihlapinatapei**

Yaghan, noun: a look shared between two people with each wishing the other will initiate something that which both desire, but neither wants to start.

---

"Well, now, everyone mourns differently," Sharpay said, tilting her head to the side. "Everyone does it in their own way, and you know what? That is something I have always completely understood and respected."

Gabriella nodded. "I agree completely."

Tapping a finger on her chin, the blonde woman surveyed the object in front of her. "It's been a difficult time for us all," she said diplomatically, surveying the object in front of her, "and I think it's important that we do everything we can to heal and move on."

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Gabriella agreed, holding out a pair of safety goggles to Sharpay. "You might want to put these on."

Sharpay grinned, accepting the goggles and pulling them over her eyes before placing the headphones over her ears. "Thanks," she said with a smile. She walked over to the front porch and picked up a box of Edward's belongings. "Now how about you and I get this show on the road, Gabriella? I have one anxious boyfriend and a brother who can't cook waiting for me back in LA."

Gabriella grinned, walking over to the wood-chipper she had rented just for the occasion and flicking it on. "The honor is all yours, Sharpay," she said, "but I suggest taking each item out of the box before throwing it in. Not only will it help prevent the machine from jamming, but it's more satisfying."

Grabbing a few T-shirts from inside of her box, Sharpay stepped forward before flinging them in the air and watching them float down into the machine, flying back out as little pieces of confetti. She let out an excited squeal and clapped her hands.

"My god," she said, laughing, "this is the best way to mourn ever!"

"Glad you think so," Gabriella said, sitting down on the porch and watching as the woman in pink happily flung item after item into the wood-chipper. Gabriella remembered how she had done the same thing so many months ago and smiled. It didn't hurt to think about it anymore.

A part of her, despite everything, would always love Edward and she had come to grips with this. It wasn't that she hadn't moved on, it was that she just wasn't able to accept that a part of her would always feel something for him. That didn't mean she was in love with him and it didn't mean that if she could do it all over again, she would be with him. She loved him once and she didn't anymore and it was what it was.

If only she were able to realize this before things were too late.

"Are you sure it was worth it, though?" Sharpay said, chucking a baseball into the machine, "I mean, renting this thing? Doesn't it cost quite a bit?"

Gabriella shrugged. "I live with four," she winced, pausing to correct herself, "I mean, _three_ men. I'm sure one of them can find some use for it before we need to return it."

Sharpay frowned, tossing a stack of letters into the wood-chipper. "He really moved out then, huh?" she asked, "Troy, I mean. He's really going to New York?"

Gabriella nodded sadly. "Looks like. That's what he told me, anyway. And he sent a truck here yesterday afternoon while you were out shopping to pack up the rest of his furniture and things. He's good as gone."

After dumping a box full of photographs to be shredded, Sharpay turned off the machine and came to sit next to Gabriella on the porch. "And how are you doing?" she asked carefully. "You okay?"

"Not really," Gabriella admitted, shaking her head. "How can I be? I let my past screw everything up and ruin one of the best things that ever happened to me. I made my bed and now I have to lie in it, no matter how ugly it is."

Sharpay laughed quietly. "Gabriella, I keep saying this, but it's not over till it's over."

Gabriella shook her head once more. "Trust me, Sharpay, it's over. He's heading to New York to find something and someone to live for, and I'm moving out. It's time for me to really move on, I guess."

"You're really moving out?" Sharpay asked, biting her lip, "but what are these guys going to do without you?"

Gabriella shrugged. "I don't know. Order take-out more often, I suppose."

Sharpay smiled sympathetically. "It'll be okay, Gabriella," she said gently. "I know it feels like it's not going to be, but it will."

"I just miss him," Gabriella admitted, reaching into her back pocket and pulling out Troy's beanie. "Everything I do, everywhere I go; I see him. I feel him. I can hear him and it's too hard. It's like living with a ghost and he's not even dead."

Shuddering, Sharpay nodded. "So that's why you want to move out."

Nodding, Gabriella shoved the hat back into her pocket. "Yeah, in a nutshell. It's funny because I came here with every intention of avoiding Troy entirely because I couldn't stand him, and now I'm leaving for the same reason, but with completely different circumstances."

"I wish I could stay and help you figure things out," Sharpay said with a sigh as she began to stand up, "but I miss Zeke and I've already been here three days. It's time to go home."

Gabriella smiled, standing up as well. "I understand. I've gotta go home, too," she said, "wherever that is."

The two woman walked over to Sharpay's magenta convertible and stood awkwardly beside it. "So," Sharpay began, "I guess this is goodbye."

"Yep," Gabriella said, "I'd say thanks for everything, but I don't know if it applies."

Sharpay threw her head back and laughed. "Oh, Gabriella, I like you." She looked at the brunette curiously. "I'm guessing a hug would be too weird and unexpected given the circumstances, huh?"

Gabriella giggled. "Yeah, given the circumstances, I'd say it would be." She paused, grinning. "However, I think one thing I can thank you for is telling me to stop letting Edward dictate my life, and by not hugging, isn't that doing exactly that?"

Sharpay smiled. "I'm going to have to agree with that," she moved forward hesitantly, before laughing. "Oh, what the hell." She wrapped her arms around Gabriella and hugged her briefly before letting go. "There," she said happily, "that was nice."

"Take care, Sharpay," Gabriella said, grinning as the blonde slid into the driver's seat of her convertible. She smiled back at her.

"You, too, Gabriella," she said fondly, before waving and pulling out of the driveway. With a honk of the horn and the loud blasting of pop music, she stepped out of their lives as quickly as she had entered it. Regardless of the amount of time she had spent there, however, she had made an impact that Gabriella knew, would stay there for life.

---

_One week later_

"Knock, knock," Jeff's cheerful voice came from the doorway of Gabriella's bedroom. "You almost done packing up in here?"

Gabriella poked her head out of the closet, adjusting Troy's beanie on her head. She brushed the dust off of her purple floral print dress and nodded. "Just about. There's a few more things I need to put in boxes, but other than that, I should be out by tomorrow morning."

Jeff frowned, leaning against her desk and folding his arms. "You really don't have to go, Gabriella," he said softly and she sighed in response.

"Yeah, I do, Jeff," she said quietly. "I can't stay here anymore. It hurts too much."

"He's a fool you know," Jeff said, hopping up to sit on the surface of her desk. "I mean, I know he was hurt, too, but if he could see you now I know things would be different."

Gabriella smiled sadly. "Somehow I don't think so," she admitted, removing a stack of sweaters from her closet and dropping them into her box. "But thanks for trying, anyway." She placed her hands on her hips and looked him up and down, noticing his excited demeanor. "You seem pretty happy. Something go well?"

Jeff nodded. "So I told Annabel how I felt."

"Did you?" Gabriella said with a gasp. "And it went well? Oh, Jeff, I'm so happy for you!"

"No, no, no!" Jeff said, waving his hands, "Technically, it went terribly, she rejected me. Turns out she has the hots for this guy named Colin who works at the video game store. She's been seeing him for a couple of weeks."

Shoulders slumping slightly, Gabriella frowned. "Oh, no," she said softly, "I'm so sorry, Jeff."

Jeff scrunched up his nose. "No, don't be. I waited too long, so clearly it wasn't meant to be."

Gabriella looked at him confused. "Then why are you so happy?" she asked and he grinned.

"Cause she's going to set me up with a friend," he said happily.

"Her roommate?"

"Oh, god, no!" Jeff said with a shake of his head. "She's a writer, completely insufferable. No, her friend Melanie. She's apparently really sarcastic. You know what they say, as one door closes, another one opens."

Gabriella shrugged. "Or both could open and then close in your face entirely."

"You really don't have to leave, Gabriella," Jeff said again. "Just because Troy's in New York trying to start fresh in a new place doesn't mean that you have to, too. You can do so right here in under this roof."

Gabriella shook her head. "Honestly, Jeff, it's best for everyone if I leave. I know that sounds dramatic, but it's true. I'll be happier, you'll be happier. You won't have to deal with my angst fest."

"But we love having you here, Gabriella," Jeff said earnestly. "You helped me lose weight and you gave Chad the confidence to hook up with Taylor and...and you don't get mad at Jason when he's hungover."

Gabriella laughed. "I'm not sure if that's saying a lot."

"All I am trying to say," Jeff said with a grin, "is that we'll miss you and a part of me will always be angry at Troy for taking you away. But I understand either way."

She smiled at him. "Thanks, Jeff."

"Anytime," he replied, swinging his legs back and forth. He paused, noticing a sealed envelope sitting on the desk next to him. He picked up. "You still haven't read it, huh?"

Gabriella turned to look at him and her eyes fell on the letter. "I'm not ready yet," she admitted. "I'm thinking I'm going to wait until it hurts a little less."

Jeff furrowed his brows. "But won't that make it hurt even more later?"

Pursing her lips, she came over to stand beside Jeff and took the letter from his extended hands. "Maybe," she admitted, "but I don't think I can handle reading it now."

Jeff pressed his hands together and brought them to his mouth, letting out a heavy sigh. "Gabriella," he began, "you have given me some great advice these past few months. Fantastic, wonderful advice. So now, would you let me return the favor and give you some?"

She bit her lip and nodded, knowing what was coming next. "Sure."

"Read the letter," Jeff said with a smile. "It might hold something that could change your life and if not, it's the only way you can really, truly move on. So read it and be done with it either way, okay?"

She nodded, swallowing thickly as the tears blurred her vision. It would hurt so much to read the words he had written her the night he left, but she knew that it was important and that Jeff was right.

"Okay," she said, exhaling. "I'll read it."

Jeff smiled sympathetically before hopping off the desk. "I'll leave you alone, then," he said before stepping out the door and closing it behind him.

With a heavy sigh, Gabriella flopped down in the desk chair in front of her and flipped the letter over in her hands. Could she really do this? Could she really bring herself to unwrap all the layers, read all the words and feel everything that he had been feeling that night? Could she do this to herself?

At the same time, how could she not? What was written on the letter had been plaguing her for days. What had he written? What had he said? Swallowing, she slowly ripped open the envelope, but her pinkie finger caught on the on the edge and she yelped as she felt herself garnering another paper-cut. Sighing, she pulled open her desk drawer and searched around for a box of bandages. Pulling it out, she felt the tears sting her eyes.

They were Spiderman bandages. Troy had put them in there, just in case.

Wrapping one around her wound carefully, she took another deep breath and pulled out the paper. Something fluttered out and fell on the desktop, but she didn't dare pick it up. Instead, she unfolded the paper carefully and began to read.

'_Gabriella_,' it began, and she was slightly surprised at the lack of a 'to' or 'dear.' Just her name, simple and bold in his sharp handwriting. She swallowed before plunging in head first.

'_Maybe what I'm about to do is all wrong, because not one part of me thinks it's right. How can it be? I've waited for you for three long years, loved you all this time, and now that you want me, too, whether it be wholly or not, I'm letting go? What kind of idiot am I? What kind of man am I? How can I do this, to you, to us?_

_Yet you must know why I can't stay. Why I can't handle being second place anymore. I wish I could, more than anything, I wish I could be satisfied with being second best to Edward. I have, after all, done so in your eyes for so many years. What's one more? But now, everything weighs heavier, everything means more and I can't._

_I remember the day I realized I was in love with you. I would later connect it to the moment we meant, but you have to remember that this day of realization was two years ago and I was a lot more cynical back then, hardly able to extend belief in something like love at first sight. I was attracted to you, that was for sure, and I got a kick out of when we would fight, but love you? It seemed impossible._

_It was a random day, a day in September and I wish I knew the exact date (I can't even give you that much). I was walking downstairs through the living room, camera in hand to go take some shots of the city at sunset when I saw you in the kitchen. _

_You were leaning against the counter, a bottle of beer in your hand and you were reading the label like it held all the answers to life. You still had those bangs and your hair was up in this messy ponytail, your nose scrunched in concentration and your lip between your teeth. You had obviously had a drink or two, your complexion was flushed. You were alone, then, and I had never seen you like this. So peaceful, so thoughtful. Everytime you were with Edward, you were constantly animated, constantly doting over him and maybe I should have considered that maybe, he lit you up, but either way, something about you in that moment made my heart soar. You were beautiful and I never thought I could see anyone look so gorgeous. But you did and you were and you are and before I knew what I was doing, I had lifted my camera to my eye and taken a quick picture._

_Of course, straight after, I bolted into my truck, completely embarrassed and shocked at what I did. I was such a creeper, taking a random photo of you like that without your consent. Still, as a I sat in the driver's seat, looking at the picture I had just shot, I realized it was perfect. Perfectly framed, perfect lighting, perfect subject. It was, at that time, the best thing I had even done. And in that moment, noticing how simple it had been, how easy you had made it and how beautiful you were, I realized that what I felt for you was more than infatuation. I was in love with you._

_Everything went down hill from there, of course. Edward and I went to LA and he met Sharpay, you ended up declaring an all our war on me and then Edward proposed. Wonderful, really._

_Yet somehow, in the myst of all that, I kept taking pictures. I took shot after shot of you and thought I felt like this crazy stalker paparazzi, I couldn't help it. Each time, it was like I was seeing a different side of you, one that no one else seemed to notice. One that Edward never paid attention to you. Having photographic evidence of that, well, it made not having you a little easier._

_Now, though, it's too hard. I've had you, and having nothing but pictures of when you were his doesn't help. You'll always be his and I...I'm not strong enough or man enough to accept that. So I'm leaving._

_This isn't because I don't love you, but it's also not because I love you. It's just me being that side of Troy Bolton that you hated; the selfish side. I'm sorry that I'm leaving on these terms and I'm sorry that this is the part of me I leave you with. Either way, know that I love you and that I always will. We may not be together, but absolutely nothing I do from this day forward will be the same. Every step I take, every breath, every thought, everything; you will be sitting on the edge of it all._

_I love you, Gabriella Montez and I want you to be happy. I just don't think that'll happen with me._

_Take care of yourself._

_Love, Troy._

Setting the letter down, Gabriella blinked through her tears. How had she been so stupid? Why had she gone and made such a fool out of him? Wiping away her tears, she lifted the piece of paper that had fallen out of the envelope when she opened it, before bursting into fresh tears.

Enclosed, he had put the picture of her from his portfolio of her standing in the kitchen that day. On the back, he had written five words.

'I will always love you.'

How could she have done this? How could she let the man she loved go? How had she been so blind?

Wait.

Her thoughts screeched to a halt, her heart thumping in her chest. Dropping the photograph, she jumped up, her chair falling behind her with a bang.

"I love him," she whispered, feeling her heart clammer. "I love him. I love Troy Bolton. I'm in love with Troy."

Suddenly, then, she tore out of the room, knowing exactly what she had to do. Mentally, she calculated how much money she had in her bank account and exactly how long it would take her to book a flight to New York. Bounding down the stairs, she called out the name of the one person who could make all this better.

"Chad!" she yelled, running into the kitchen, where she found him standing cooking dinner. She noticed that he wasn't alone, Jeff leaning against the counter with a beer in his hand and Jason seated at the table, staring at the vegetables on the cutting board as if they would chop themselves. Chad looked up at her, startled.

"What is it, Gabriella?" he asked, panicked. "Are you okay?"

"You need to give me Troy's address in New York," she said quickly and Chad closed his eyes, frowning. Jeff and Jason exchanged a glance.

"I can't give you that, Gabriella," Chad said with a sigh.

Feeling the tears well up in her eyes, Gabriella ran a hand through her hair anxiously. "Please, Chad, you have to," she pleaded. "I need to go see him. I have to go see him."

Chad shook his head. "Really, Gabriella, I can't. He doesn't want to see you."

"Screw what he wants!" Gabriella said shrilling and Jason jumped, surprised by her anger. "This is important, Chad. I have to go see him."

Chad sighed, leaning against the counter. "I don't want to see you two hurt again, Gabriella," he said, "and I know it's hard, but maybe it's for the best."

"Chad," Gabriella choked out, "I'm in love with him."

The room grew silent. No one had expected that. "W-what?" Chad asked, gaping at her.

She swallowed, running a hand underneath her eye to catch her tears. "I'm in love with him, Chad. I love him. I can't let him go through life not knowing that. He needs to know. I'm not going there to hurt him, or even myself. I just...I want him to know. He needs to know."

Chad exhaled slowly and Gabriella bit her lip when he didn't say anything. "I know you know his address, Chad, I know you've been in contact. Please, tell me."

"I can't give you that, Gabriella," Chad said, shaking his head once more and Gabriella felt herself on the verge of hysterics.

"Why not, Chad?" she exclaimed, "What do you think I'm going to do?"

Pressing a hand to his temple, Chad let out a chuckle. "Oh, god, he is going to kill me."

Gabriella frowned, quirking an eyebrow. "What?"

Chad sighed, standing up straight. "Troy never went to New York, Gabriella," he said bluntly. "He's been staying at his parent's house across town all this time."

Gabriella froze, completely shocked. "What?"

"Don't get me wrong," Chad began, "he had absolutely every intention of going. Got to the airport and everything. Then at the very last second, he didn't get on the plane. Called up the people at his fancy job and said he had reconsidered. He's been staying with his parents until he finds a new place."

"You mean to say," Gabriella said slowly, "that he's been right here in Albuquerque all this time?"

Chad nodded. "Yep. It's about a ten minute drive from here. You want me to drive you or do you think you can make it yourself?"

Gabriella smiled brightly and threw her arms around Chad. "Thank you," she whispered, "thank you, thank you."

Chad smiled back, feeling his heart swell with love for his friends. Hopefully this time, everything would turn out for the best. "Let me write you down the directions," he said, grabbing a piece of paper while Gabriella tried her best to calm down, and Jeff gave Jason a knowing look.

Thank god he had forced her to read that letter.

---

Gabriella climbed out of her car carefully, taking a deep breath. She was standing before Troy's childhood home. It was a beautiful house, with strong, dark brick and beautiful window fixtures. There was a great variety of flowers in the garden and she was reminded of his mother's interest in gardening. Looking over to the other side of the house, she caught a glimpse of a basketball court and in the driveway, next to a gold van was Troy's beat up white truck.

Swallowing, she closed the door behind her and walked up the pathway to his front door. A part of her was screaming to go back, get in her car and drive away. Forget about him, forget about this and move on. But how could she with the knowledge that she loved him now? That he hadn't gone to New York? Considering she had been willing to fly all the way there to be with him, things were so much easier for her now. It was meant to be this way.

Clearing her throat and taking another deep breath, she stood in front of the door for a moment before raising her fist and knocking on the wood three times. She ran a hand through her curls, waiting anxiously for someone to open the door.

Suddenly, it swung open and Gabriella was met with the sight of a petite woman with shoulder length brown hair. She smiled brightly at Gabriella.

"Can I help you, dear?" she asked, one hand on the door, smiling expectantly.

She must be Troy's mother, Gabriella thought, before plastering a nervous smile on her face and nodding. "Um, hello," she said sheepishly, extending her hand. "I'm Gabriella Montez."

The woman's eyes doubled in size and she stared at the young woman before her, but didn't take her hand. "So you're Gabriella," she breathed and the young woman flinched. She must know everything then.

"Um, yes," she said with a slight laugh, "that would be me. I, um, I know this is weird and awkward, but is your son...um, is he here? I mean, I saw his truck in your driveway and Chad told me he was."

Troy's mother blinked before flushing wildly. "Oh, I am so sorry, dear!" she said, grabbing Gabriella's wrists and pulling her forward. "I was just a little taken aback, come in come in! I certainly didn't expect you here, but it is wonderful that you are!"

Gabriella swallowed, feeling suddenly out of place as she was pulled inside the warm house. "Oh, don't worry, I know this is kind of unexpected and really weird and I just need to speak with Troy for a minute, really."

"Nonsense," his mother said, closing the door behind her and smiling brightly. "My name's Lucille, by the way." She paused and looked at Gabriella. "Wow. You are as pretty as the pictures my son takes."

Gabriella blushed hotly. Okay, now things were getting a little more than awkward for her. "Do you think you could find him for me? I really need to speak with him, it's kind of—"

"Gabriella."

A shiver ran down her spine at the sound of his voice. There was no question in the way he had said her name, just a simple statement, like she was meant to be there. She looked down the hallway slowly, afraid that she had imagined it, but when her eyes fell on him, she felt her heart burst and she knew that it wasn't over.

He stood there, a shocked expression on his face, his blue eyes dull, eyebrows raised in surprise. He was wearing a grey-blue V-neck T-shirt and grey jeans. His hair was messier than she remembered it, long and falling into his eyes. He looked exhausted, like he hadn't really slept in days and he was carrying himself differently; there didn't appear to be the same bounce in his step. She cringed.

"Hi," she said softly, tentatively. His mother looked in between the two of them, furrowing her eyebrows thoughtfully.

"Did you want to sit down and have some tea?" she asked carefully, "I make sure to have several varieties of flavours on hand at all times, what's your poison, dear—"

"What are you doing here?" Troy asked, taking a step closer to them, but still keeping his distance. Gabriella wrung her hands together so tightly they were growing slightly raw.

"I just, um...can we talk?" she asked, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

His gaze narrowed. "I don't know, Gabriella..."

"Or, you can both come sit down in the living room and have some tea!" Lucille cut in, trying to ease up the tension between her son and his visitor. "I have green tea! I also have this wonderful new flavor, it's this wild-berry one, absolutely fantastic!"

"It'll only take a few minutes," Gabriella insisted. "I mean, just hear what I have to say and then after that we can just...you know, go our separate ways for good, if that's really what you want."

He didn't say anything, shifting on his feet and looking at the ground. Once more, his mother cast a concerned glance between the two before clapping her hands together excitedly.

"Okay, so who wants to try the wild-berry tea, then?" she asked, rubbing her hands together.

"Mama!" Troy snapped suddenly, pressing a hand to his temple, "Just let it go."

Lucille folded her arms. "Well, I was just trying to help. Tea helps to calm you down."

"Mama," Troy said sternly. He glanced over at Gabriella and gestured for her to follow him. "Come on. We can talk in my room."

He began to slowly walk down the hall and Gabriella blinked quickly, smiling at Lucille in a silent apology before scurrying to catch up with him.

"Keep the door open!" Lucille called after them and Gabriella smiled. Even though he was now twenty-eight years old, she was still Troy's mother and she would make certain that he was reminded of the rules.

But once they stepped foot into Troy's old room, he closed the door behind them, clicking the lock shut. Gabriella looked at him curiously, surprised to find him so blatantly doing the exact opposite of what was told of him.

Catching her look, he shrugged, flopping down on his bed. "I'm not eighteen anymore," he said simply. "And even then, I would lock the door. She'll come check on us in half an hour if it's still closed."

Gabriella nodded, knowing that had the situation not been so thick with tension, she would have laughed. God, how had they ended up here from where they were? It made her sick to her stomach to think about it. She felt tears well up in her eyes and her lower lip begin to shake. Biting down on it, hard, she surveyed the area, looking for a distraction.

The walls were a deep blue colour and on the left side of the room were a set of French doors leading out to the backyard. His comforter was quilted and across from it, was a makeshift desk and chair. Basketball memorabilia seemed to be everywhere and despite herself, she smiled.

"You really were into basketball as a kid, huh?" she asked, running her hand over a framed photograph of Troy and Chad as teenagers.

Again, he shrugged, sitting up on his bed and staring at her. "Well, when you're in high school, being into the arts isn't exactly considered cool," he said, his eyes flickering over her figure. "A couple of kids wanted to try out for the school musical and it pretty much turned the whole social circle upside down."

Gabriella smiled softly. "I can imagine. I would never want to do my teenage years over again."

A silence settled in between the two of them and Gabriella was torn between launching herself at him and holding him for all his worth, or being diplomatic and easing into things. She cleared her throat, deciding to start with the obvious.

"You never went to New York," she stated and she saw him stiffen out of the corner of her eye. He didn't offer the space next to him for her to sit down, so instead, she went over and sat at his desk chair, careful not to knock anything off of the surface.

"Nope," he said bluntly before running a hand through his hair.

She bit her lip, folding her hands in her lap. "Why not?"

Troy smiled lazily. "Come on now, Gabriella, could you see me in New York?" he said jokingly. "Freelance photographer Troy Bolton from freaking Albuquerque in the Big Apple? Nah..."

"Actually," she interjected, "I could. You're extraordinarily talented, Troy, and meant for such bigger and better things. Of course I could see you in New York."

"You think too highly of my talents, then," Troy said, rubbing the back of his neck. "How did you find out I was here?"

"Chad told me," Gabriella bit her lip when she saw him roll his eyes and groan in aggravation. "I had to rip it out of him, though."

"That's just great," Troy said, flopping back on his bed again. "Obviously I can't trust the guy as far as I can throw him."

Gabriella winced. "Did you really not want to see me that badly?" she asked carefully. "I mean, I can understand if you wouldn't, but—"

"No!" Troy said suddenly, sitting up quickly. He looked panicked and he shook his head almost frantically. "Of course I wanted to see you, Gabriella, I'm just a little surprised that you're here, is all."

He swallowed harshly and clutched the blankets beside him, ducking his head down. "You're all I've been thinking about since I left," he admitted and she felt her breath catch in her throat. "Even though I left because of you, every thought I've had since then...every single one has been about you."

She looked down at her hands and felt the tears cloud her eyes once more. "You're all I've thought about, too."

Troy sighed and closed his eyes. "Gabriella, don't."

"Why do you always do that, Troy?" she snapped, feeling her composure weaken. "You're allowed to spill your heart out to me, but any time I dare to you it's considered taboo?"

"Well, I mean what I say," he spat, "And I'm not so sure you can say the same for yourself, so sorry if I'm a little skeptical."

"And you always do this!" she exclaimed, "act like you're inside my head and know exactly what I'm thinking, exactly what I'm going to say, when really, you have no idea at all!"

Troy was quiet for a moment before he stood up, brushing off his jeans. "If you've come here just to fight with me, then please leave," he said tiredly. "I can't take it anymore."

"But you're the one who started it, Troy," she said sadly. "You won't listen to me. Why do you insist upon never listening to me?"

Catching a glimpse of the tears in her eyes, Troy immediately felt guilty. God, he was sick of her hurting him, but more than that, he was sick of hurting her. He sat back down on his bed, running a hand over his face.

"Why are you here, Gabriella?" he asked finally and she felt her throat close up. She had anticipated this; on the drive over she had planned out everything she was going to say to him. Yet now, now that it was time, she could feel herself clamming up. She didn't know where to begin.

"I..." she began, before trailing off and the two fell into silence once more as Gabriella scrambled mentally to find something to say. Troy sighed once more.

"Please don't put me through this, Gabriella," he said quietly. "Don't put yourself through this. If what you're going to say isn't going to make things...civil, between us again, then don't say it."

"What if what I'm going to say," she said, swallowing, "what if it made things better?"

He shook his head. "We can't go back, Gabriella, not now."

"But what if we could?" she said, standing up quickly, knocking his chair over behind her. She came and knelt in front of him. "What if we could?"

"Gabriella," he began again, looking away from her watery eyes. "Please."

"You haven't even asked why I'm here, Troy," she said slowly and he bit his lip so hard it turned white.

"Then why are you here?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I have a question you need to answer first. Then we can get to me."

He turned to her then, watching as she stood up to stand against one of the doors leading outside.

"Why aren't you in New York, Troy?" she asked, running a hand through her hair. "You were going to live, to find someone. Why are you still here in Albuquerque?"

He sighed heavily, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes, rubbing. He was so tired; he hadn't slept more than three hours a night since he had left her. "If I went to New York," he began, "I wouldn't have been going for me. It wasn't because it was a great opportunity anymore, it wasn't because I would be doing something I loved. I wasn't going for me. I was going to escape you, to try to move on."

"And when I got to the airport, all set to go and leave this life behind," he swallowed, "I realized that I didn't want to. I wasn't leaving for _me_, this wasn't what _I_ wanted. I wanted to stay here, I wanted you. I'm not ready to move on and it only took me that long to realize it."

He stood then, pacing around the room, scratching his neck awkwardly. "So I thought about it; I could go to New York and try to forget about you, but what good would that do besides make me miserable? Furthermore, I had this whole front that I was doing this to give you space, to escape you because I was sick of waiting; why would I go to all these lengths to do something for someone else when I was trying to be selfish for a change? It didn't make sense."

"But then," he paused, liking his lips, "then I remembered what you had said about going to find someone who was worth it, and I couldn't do it. I couldn't go." He looked up at her then, their eyes meeting and she felt her breath knock out of her. "Why would I go when the only person who was ever worth it, who would ever be worth anything to me was right here? It didn't make sense."

Gabriella bent her head then, her shoulders shaking as the tears overflowed and fell down her cheeks. "But I'm not worth it, Troy," she said quietly, "I'm not worth giving up your dreams for."

"But you are," he whispered, running a hand through his hair. "Dammit, Gabriella, you're worth everything and I was stupid to let all that go. Now look at us," he said exasperated. "I fucked up. If I loved you as much as I said I did, then I should have been willing to wait."

Gabriella shook her head. "No, I should have never asked that of you."

He shrugged, looking away from her. "We both went about this all wrong," he admitted, "and I guess it cost us a lot more than we bargained for."

She nodded slowly, before biting her lip. Swiping away at her tears, she took a deep breath and began to speak. "I um, I read your letter."

Troy stiffened visibly, wetting his lips nervously. "Did you now?"

"Yeah," she leaned her cheek against the cool glass of the door and folded her arms. "I was packing up my things—"

"Wait," he said suddenly, cutting her off, "you're moving out?"

"Yeah," she said, nodding, "I can't stay there anymore."

He frowned. "Why? That's...it's your home."

She shook her head. "It's not home without you, Troy," she confessed and she saw him squeeze his eyes shut. "But this isn't the point. I was packing up my things and I read your letter and it just...it broke my heart, Troy. To know that you felt all this and that I couldn't even dare to begin to reciprocate it?"

"So I thought about it," she wiped away a few more tears that escaped, "I thought about everything that we had been through and everything that transpired, and I came to a conclusion."

He looked up at her, his gaze meeting hers. "What would that?" he asked anxiously.

"I always thought that the moment I realized I was falling in love with you was when we were doing the photo-shoot," she admitted, "yet the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was long before then."

"I started to fall in love with you at the craft store that day," she said, her voice shaking slightly. "When you told me about how you were teaching those kids photography and how passionate you were about everything. How wonderful you were with them."

She swallowed, bringing a hand up to her mouth to muffle her sobs. He didn't seem to notice, his head having fallen back into his hands as he gripped at his hair. Still, she somehow found the courage to continue. "So then of course, I remembered what I overheard one day while you were teaching," she began and she saw him tense even further. "I came to ask you if you wanted something to eat, but you were in the middle of the class and I just didn't want to bother you. It was the day you were conducting the Polaroid assignment and you showed your class your example of something that was important to you. And it was me."

His head lifted slowly and she was taken aback by the surprise in his expression. "You knew about that?" he asked slowly and she nodded. "I had no idea..."

"I didn't want you to know I knew," she sobbed, "but then I discovered something else that I hadn't realized that day, but looking back, it was so, so clear."

He swallowed, his hands shaking slightly as he raked them through his hair for the hundredth time. "And what was that?"

Feeling another tear slip down her cheek, she took a deep breath. "Ask me why I'm here, Troy."

"Why are you here, Gabriella?"

"I'm here," she said, propping herself off the door, "because I want to be with you more than anything in the world."

She let out a choked sob before continuing. "I'm here because the day you said you cared about me was the day I realized I loved you. I'm here because I want to be with you and I love you and you're _everything_ to me."

Gabriella buried her face in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably. There. She said it. It was out. But instead of feeling immensely elated, instead of feeling at peace; she only felt anxious. She didn't dare look up to see his reaction, even though it was killing her to know.

Suddenly though, she felt a warm hand glide around both of her wrists, lifting her hands away from her face. Slowly, she opened her eyes and saw Troy standing in front of her, his eyes darting over her face. He stepped closer to her and backed her until she felt herself hit the glass of the doors. Gently, he pressed each of her wrists beside her head and she shivered at the cold coming off of the window panes.

"Say it again," he whispered, his heart thumping in his chest. He wanted to make sure he had heard her right, that he hadn't just imagined it.

Gabriella looked up into his eyes, feeling the warmth of his fingers against her wrists. "I love you," she said softly, confidently. "I love you and only you."

A beat passed between them. Then, he kissed her.

His lips moved against hers slowly, softly at first and his hands traveled up her wrists to enlace his fingers with her own. She kissed him back eagerly, squeezing his hands and melting into him.

He pressed her against the glass and let go of her hands, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her closer to him. "I love you," he said against her mouth, "I love you so much. So, so much."

"I love you," she whispered back as their kisses grew more passionate, more frantic. "I love you, I love you, I love you and it feels," she paused, pressing her lips against his harder, "so good to say that. I love you."

Troy pulled back suddenly, looking at her face, grinning. She smiled back, laughing slightly at the look on his face. "What?" she asked in between giggles, bringing up a hand to cup his cheek. "What is it?"

"I just can't believe this is happening," he said, pressing kisses to her cheeks. "I'm never going to get sick of hearing that. Ever." He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. "Please, please, say it again."

Holding his face in both hands, she looked at him seriously, tears swimming in her eyes. "You are everything to me," she sniffed, "you mean more to me than you could ever imagine, more than anything or anyone has ever meant to me. I love how passionate you are, I love how artistic you are. I love how silly you can be and how positive you are. I love how kind and caring and loving you are and I love how you make me feel special and giddy and like a teenager. I love you, Troy Bolton," she paused, "and I always will."

Troy crushed his lips against her's in response, pressing the length of his body into her own. She shivered slightly and he pulled back, wrapping his arms around her and swinging her around.

"You have no idea how happy I am," he said setting her back down on the ground. She laughed, stepping on her tiptoes to peck his lips.

"Oh, I can imagine," she said, lifting a hand to his face, but he caught it midair, inspecting it carefully.

"Spiderman bandages?" he asked, furrowing his brow and looking at her pinkie. She shrugged.

"I got a paper-cut right before I came here," she admitted, "it seemed right."

Troy laughed, bringing her pinkie to his lips and giving it a soft kiss. "There. Now it's all better."

"Troy?" a rapid knocking and shrill voice came from the other side of his door. "Is everything okay in there? Did you two want some tea now?"

Gabriella broke down in peels of laughter as Troy bit back his own chuckles. "Everything's fine, mama!" he called backing, feeling slightly embarrassed, but too excited to care. He looked down at Gabriella and nuzzled his nose against hers. "Everything's more than fine."

"Gabriella?" he said, his eyes shining.

"Yes, Troy?" she asked, lacing her fingers with his.

Leaning down, he kissed her once more before tugging on her hand and leading her towards the doorway.

"Let's go home."

--

I know I said I'd have this up by Saturday, but I was not in the best of spirits last night. It was either give you guys a half-assed, subpar version of this chapter, which was so, so important to both the plot-line and myself, or wait a day and let it pass and give it the proper attention it deserved. Although I'm still kind of down in the dumps, I am more than happy with how this turned out and writing it actually cheered me up a great deal. :)

Additionally, I actually bought the entire score from 'Catch and Release' off of iTunes just so I could upload the one track from it for this chapter because nothing I could find fit the mood of the last scene as well as it did. There's two for this chapter, one of my all time favourites and the beautiful track that will act as a homage to the mediocre movie that served as inspiration for this fic.

Enjoy and thank you as always. Next chapter will be (gasp!) the last.


	17. Troy

---

**Mamihlapinatapei**

Yaghan, noun: a look shared between two people with each wishing the other will initiate something that which both desire, but neither wants to start.

---

**Two Years Later**

_Dear Edward,_

_It feels like it's been forever since you died, but in fact, it's only been a little over two years. Is it wrong to say that I'm doing okay without you, that I may be doing even better? It feels wrong to say things like that to you when you're not there, but had you been, I don't think it would be any different. _

_You should know that I don't hate you anymore. I'm no longer angry with you. While I don't understand your reasons for what you did or agree with them, I've accepted them and moved on. I used to wonder what drew you to them, though. What caused you to string along not only myself, but another woman, too. Neither of us deserved that, Edward, and I really hope you knew that. Or at least, that you do now. _

_Almost immediately as I began to wonder, though, I realized how futile it was. How it was always going to be impossible to try and understand you. So I stopped._

_I moved on, Edward, is what it amounts to. It wasn't easy, but finding out about your secrets didn't make it harder. _

_I feel like maybe, I should thank you, but that would be absurd. I can't help but think though, that if you hadn't cheated on me, if you hadn't kept all those secrets and said all those lies, I never would have truly been happy. I would be with you, and I think we both know that we weren't the right match. If it weren't for your betrayal, your infidelity, I never would have ended up with Troy._

_That's right, Troy, the man I hated so much. I can't help but wonder sometimes what would have happened if you had been a different man and hadn't decided to approach me even after Troy confessed that he was planning on doing just that. Would Troy and I have somehow connected that night? Would I have not wasted years with you and missed out on so much time with him? Either way, I know that you're not to blame; I'm the one who didn't give him a chance, regardless of your pursuit or not._

_Either way, we're together now and Edward? I'm happy. I'm really, truly happy and I love him more than words can say. I can't even attempt to articulate it. He and I are happy together and he is the most beautiful, wonderful, good person I know. If it weren't for your friendship with him, your ties; I would have never gotten to know him, and so for that, I thank you._

_A part of me will always love you, Edward. I don't know what part of you it is loving, because it occurred to me a long time ago that I never really knew you, not like I thought I did. I never made you truly happy and although that used to kill me, I now see it as something that is just fact. Something I couldn't control and not something I should hold against you or myself._

_Everyone thinks I should hate you, but I know despite all your faults, despite everything that happened, there was some good in you, Edward Guerin. I don't know this from your words or actions, but from the friends you had. They are such good, strong men, Eddie, such amazing people. There had to be something about you to pull them in, to make them love you for so long. There had to be something for an amazing person like Troy to have such unwavering loyalty towards you._

_I hope, somewhere in our years together, I caught a glimpse of it, too._

_Wherever you are, whatever you are doing Edward, I hope you are peaceful and I hope you are happy._

_Wishing you well,_

_Gabriella_

Dropping the letter on the grassy patch in front of the tombstone, Gabriella sighed, shifting on the ground where she sat and resting her hands on her stomach. She hadn't been to Edward's grave in so long, since his funeral, really. She hadn't the strength to come immediately after his death and she hadn't the desire once she found out the truth about their life together.

Now sitting beside the tombstone that depicted his life span and name, she felt very little at all and was contented with that fact. There were fresh flowers resting against the stone, and the ground around it was maintained, so she didn't think it was that he had no visitors at all. She bit her lip, wondering briefly if maybe leaving the letter there was the wrong thing to do.

No, she thought, as she stood up. She had stopped living her life for Edward ages ago, and she wouldn't start doing so again. Leaving the letter here was for her, letting go of whatever bad will she had towards him in the past. Pressing her lips to her fingers, she then touched his tombstone and stood.

"Goodbye, Edward," she said, letting her fingers linger there a moment longer. "Be happy."

And with that, she walked away.

---

Gabriella giggled as Troy hovered above her, their fingers enlaced and resting beside her head on the soft pillows. He kissed her happily three times before trailing down her jawline, down to her neck and the peppering kisses over her collarbone.

"Say it again, babe," he murmured against her skin, continuing his descent on her body, placing gentle kisses over the swell of her breasts and then tracing over her ribs. Still giggling, she unlaced their fingers and threaded her own through his soft hair.

"Troy," she said, "I've said it nearly one hundred times. How many more do you want?"

"A hundred more! It feels more real that way, Gabriella," he said in between kisses as he lifted the hem of her shirt, exposing her smooth stomach. She giggled even more as he began to kiss her bare skin, clutching strands of his hair between her fingers. "Say it again, Gabriella, one more time."

Coyly raising an eyebrow, she ran her fingertips over his forehead and urged him to look up at her. "One more time?" she asked as he raised his head.

"One more time," he said softly, making his way back up her body and connecting their lips briefly. "Just once more."

She leaned up and kissed his lips gently, before pulling back and looking straight into his excited blue eyes. Smiling softly, she whispered the words he longed for her to repeat.

"I'm pregnant."

Troy burst into a grin at her words and kissed her all over her face, his lips ghosting over her cheeks, her nose, her jaw and her chin. "Again, Gabriella," he said as he kissed down her neck, past her chest and landed back at her stomach. "Again!"

Gabriella laughed delightedly as he wrapped his arms around her middle and kissed her bare stomach again. "We're going to have a baby, Troy," she said, threading her fingers through his hair once more.

"Oh god," he said happily, "I can't believe it." He stilled his movements and let his cheek rest against her stomach, smiling slightly as he did so. "A baby," he sighed, "a baby, a baby, a baby."

Feeling her own grin burst across her face, Gabriella couldn't help but give her own happy sigh. "A little me and you. God, Troy, can you believe it?"

So much had changed in her life in the last two years. Edward had died, thus breaking her heart, and then she had learned that he hadn't been faithful to her, repeating the process. She had hated Troy and now she loved him more than anything in the entire world. He had built her up again, made her see a side of herself that she hadn't thought possible and more than that, she had seen sides of him she never knew existed. Each one had only caused her to fall deeper in love with him.

Six months earlier, Troy (after much encouragement and prodding from Gabriella) had taken a loan out of the bank and opened his own studio across town. It wasn't New York, no fancy office or stick-thin models. he and Troy still lived in the red brick house with Chad and the others, though they had long ago lost the boundaries between what was her room and what was his. Things were now 'theirs' or 'ours', never 'his' or 'hers'. Chad often joked that it was a shame that their bedrooms were not side by side, because then they could just tear down the wall between them and combine them. The joke didn't have the same punchline affect he had wanted, though, when Troy and Gabriella agreed with him.

Being the sole couple in the household had more negatives than it did positives. They were constantly receiving ribbing from their friends and alone time was never guaranteed, but rather elaborately planned. Neither of them would have changed it for the world, though, despite the annoyance on both their end, and their housemates.

It was all about to change, though, Gabriella thought as she stroked Troy's soft hair as he rested his head on her stomach, his hands rubbing the sides of her waist gently. The glint of the ring on her left hand caught her eye and she smiled fondly, a shiver running through her as she was reminded of what it meant.

She was engaged. To Troy. She and Troy were engaged. They were engaged to each other. They were going to get married. In two weeks. She still remembered the day he had asked her nearly eight months ago. He had been so nervous, and while his proposal hadn't been anything grand and elaborate like Edward's, it was more perfect than she could have ever imagined.

"_I know it seems fast_," he said as she sat down on their bed in shock. Troy had simply returned home one afternoon and entered their bedroom with a velvet ring box in his hands. "_But I keep walking past that jewelry store and I keep walking in and I keep looking at this ring_," he had muttered, "_and I keep thinking that it would look so perfect on your finger. We've only been together a little over a year, but Gabriella, I can't imagine my life without you_."

He had swallowed, looking down at the ground nervously. "_Everything about us has been fast, and I think...I think that's the way it's meant to be. I...I understand if you want to wait, but just know that the moment you're ready, we'll do it. We'll take the plunge. I want you forever, and I just feel like...like you should know that. That this is the best way to tell you._"

He had glanced up then, finally looking at her. She was sitting on the bed, her face flushed and eyes watering, hands pressed to her mouth. He had swallowed harshly, anticipating her answer anxiously. He bit his lip, glancing away. "_Say something, anything,_" he begged. God, he had felt like an idiot. Why did he buy this ring? He had strolled into the jeweler's nearly everyday for almost two months, and everytime he had contemplated buying the ring. Now he just finally had. But why? Would she even say yes?

"_Ask me_," she whispered and he looked back at her startled.

"_What_?" he asked and she rose to come stand in front of him.

Bringing a hand up to his chest, she looked up at him with watering eyes. "_Ask me_," she said so softly he had to strain to her hear her. "_Ask me, please_."

Swallowing harshly, he nodded, opening up the ring-box to reveal a simple princess-cut diamond set in a platinum band. Taking her hand in his, he smiled nervously.

"_Marry me, Gabriella_," he had whispered. "_Marry me and make me the happiest man alive_."

Gabriella had burst into tears then and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him passionately as she said yes over and over again over his lips.

Now the wedding was merely two weeks away. Fourteen days. In fourteen days, they would walk down the aisle and she would be Mrs. Gabriella Bolton. In mere days, they were going to be moving into their own house together and in nine months they were going to be having a child. Their own baby.

"I think I can hear the heartbeat," Troy whispered against her skin and Gabriella laughed.

"Troy, honey, I'm not even at eight weeks yet," she said softly, "besides, you can hear that sort of thing on an ultrasound, not with the human ear."

"Nope," Troy said, pressing a kiss just above her belly-button. "I'm certain. Think I feel a kick, too."

Gabriella threw her head back and laughed. "Okay, now I know you're full of it, Bolton."

Coming to lie down beside her, Troy enlaced their fingers and buried his face into her neck, nuzzling the skin with his nose. "You're just a non-believer, _Bolton_," he said, twisting her engagement ring around her finger playfully.

Placing her fingers underneath his chin gently, Gabriella brought her lips to his and kissed him softly. "Hey, I'm not a Bolton just yet, you know," she said, their kisses slow and languid.

"Maybe not," he said, connecting their lips once more. Pulling back, he continued. "But you will be soon enough. God, Gabriella," he said, laughing, "we're going to have a baby. A baby!"

"Yep," she said, kissing his jaw. "A little me and a little you. A little boy or a little girl."

"Hmm," he said thoughtfully, running a hand over her cheek. "Bet you they have your hair."

"I hope they have your eyes," she said softly.

Kissing her on the nose, he closed his eyes contently. "I hope they're as smart as you."

Closing her own, she snuggled closer to him and sighed as he wrapped his arm around her waist. "I hope they're as talented as you are."

"We'll teach them how to play basketball and soccer, how to paint and sing," he murmured, his hand creeping underneath the hem of her shirt to rest on her stomach. She shivered at his touch.

"You can teach them photography," she said and Troy grinned.

"Oh, god, I'm going to take so many pictures," he laughed, opening his eyes. "You do realize I am probably going to take a picture of you every single day from now until the baby is born."

Gabriella's own eyes flew open. "Why?" she asked.

"Because," he said, bringing his lips to hers, "I want every single second of this documented. My god, I still can't get over it."

Gabriella placed her hand over his, feeling her eyes water slightly. "Hey, Troy?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Feeling his heart still flutter and skip in his chest, he kissed her gently once more. "I love you, too."

---

"Do you really have to move out?" a voice asked quietly as Gabriella taped another large cardboard box closed. She glanced up and saw Jeff standing there in the doorway, a smirk on his face.

Standing up, Gabriella smiled and folded her arms. "This sounds awfully familiar, Jeffrey," she said teasingly, "I think I recall the same thing happening about a year and a half ago."

Jeff shrugged, leaning against the doorframe. "Maybe so, but damn, are the circumstances different now. But seriously, do you guys really have to go?"

"We weren't planning on staying here forever, Jeff," she said softly, kindly. She and Troy had long ago known that one day they were going to have to leave the house and that things would ultimately change. They hadn't been looking forward to it; the house and the people here held so much for them...but at the same time, they were eager to be on their own. To live a life together, to have their own house, to start a family...now it was all happening, and she knew it was difficult for the others to take in all at once. She herself was still adjusting to it.

"Yeah, but you guys set off like, a domino affect," Jeff said quietly, "now it's just gonna be me and Jason, with Chad moving into Taylor's apartment next month and all. Who's going to cook for us?"

Laughing, Gabriella smiled, a hand resting on her stomach again. It was becoming a habit and she knew she was going to have a terrible time attempting to break it, so she decided she'd rather encourage it instead. "You can always find new housemates, Jeff. Ones who can cook."

"Yeah, but it's not the same," he said with a shrug. "No one can make grilled tomato and cheese sandwiches like you."

"I'll tell you what," Gabriella said, leaning over to pick up one of the boxes on the ground filled with Troy's camera equipment. "Once things are settled with Troy and I, after we come back from the honeymoon and set up the house, we'll have you over for dinner at least once a week."

Jeff's eyes lit up. "Promise?"

She nodded. "I promise."

Jeff grinned brightly. "It's a deal," he agreed, "but I still don't think you guys should move out right away. I mean, you can always stay here after the honeymoon."

"Jeff," Gabriella said slowly, "I really don't think you guys want to deal with us as newly weds. Even more than that, I don't think we'll be wanting to deal with you."

Jeff blanched. "That...is a good point. Besides, Troy's already found the house hasn't he?"

"Yep," she replied, stacking the box on top of another. "He made an offer a month ago and we're set to move in this weekend. Even though I haven't seen it..." she explained with a roll of her eyes, "but he swears he wants it to be a surprise. I am hoping that he made a good choice."

Jeff watched as Gabriella stacked a box on top of another and winced. "You had might want to hurry up...Troy's going to be home soon and if he catches you doing any of that lifting, he'll freak out at you and murder one of us for not watching you and making sure you didn't."

Gabriella frowned. "I'm not some fragile doll you know," she said indignantly. "I'm just pregnant."

"Exactly," Jeff said slightly exasperated. "You're pregnant. With a baby. A baby that is one half of you and one half of Troy, and therefore, to him, you are breakable and glass like." Draping an arm over her shoulder he began to lead her out of Troy's room and over to the stairs. "Come on, anyway, take a break. The mail is here and there's something that looks awfully like a very late RSVP to your wedding."

"What?" Gabriella said, her brow creasing. "We sent those out nearly four months ago, who could it possibly be?"

Jeff shrugged. "No idea. Did you have any people not respond at all?"

Gabriella rubbed her temples, thinking of a couple of invitations she had sent out that had received no reply. One had been to Edward's parents, but she had sent it out of courtesy, more than anything. She hadn't imagined they would be too thrilled to attend the wedding of their son's old fiancee to a man who was supposed to be one of his best friends. There was another, but Gabriella hadn't expected a reply to that one either...but if it was either one of them, she really hoped it wasn't Edward's parents.

For more reasons than one.

"Oh, this means we're going to have to squeeze in extra place settings," Gabriella said, feeling suddenly stressed. "Taylor is going to kill me when I tell her we have to rearrange the table seating again."

Jeff frowned as they walked into the living room. "But isn't the wedding in like, two weeks?"

Gabriella nodded. "Yes. That's why I said she was going to kill me." She noticed that Jeff had a funny look on his face and she stopped walking. "You okay?" she asked, concerned.

"Annabel's single again," Jeff blurted out and Gabriella raised her eyebrows. For the past year, Annabel had been in a dramatic relationship with Colin from the video game store, and despite how many times Jeff had said he was okay with it (and his many failed dates with her friend Melanie), Gabriella knew he still carried a torch for Annabel.

"Oh?"

Jeff swallowed. "Yep. So I was thinking of asking her to the wedding."

Gabriella nodded. "That sounds nice, Jeff. But as your date? Do you think...is that what she wants?"

Jeff shrugged. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "She rejected me once but...I feel like things aren't finished between the two of us and I'm not ready to quit just yet." He glanced up and his eyes met hers. "I mean, Troy never gave up on you, after all."

Flushing slightly, she smiled. "No, he didn't," she said softly as she walked past the couch to see Jason slumped over on it, face down. She bent down and knocked his viking helmet off his head and he jumped.

"What? What?" he asked, panicked before letting his head fall back down to the pillow. It was dollar beer night the night before. Giggling to herself, Gabriella waltzed into the kitchen as Jeff tried to peel Jason off the couch. As much as things changed, some still stayed exactly the same.

"Hey, Chad," she said, entering the kitchen and pecking him on the cheek in greeting. "How's my favourite friend?"

Chad grinned. "Very good, thanks," he said happily from his spot at the stove where he was stirring tomato sauce. "How about you? How's the packing coming along?"

Gabriella leaned against the counter, exhaling sharply. "Good. We're almost finished and hopefully, we can move our stuff into the new house by the weekend." She scoffed before adding, "the new house that I haven't even seen."

Chad laughed. "It's a beauty, Gabi," he said, turning down the heat on the stove and letting the tomato sauce simmer. "You're going to love it."

Gabriella gaped at him. "You've seen it?" she exclaimed, "and I haven't? How unfair!"

"He only wants to surprise you, Gabi," Chad said calmly and the woman beside him sighed.

"I know, and I know I agreed to it in the first place, but I'd just love to see it for myself," she bit her lip, "see where our family is going to live."

"That sounds so weird," Chad said quietly, "you and Troy are going to have a family. God, I can't believe it. But it sounds wonderful, it sounds..."

"Right," Gabriella finished for him and Chad nodded. She smiled, her hand resting on her stomach yet again. "I know. I can't believe it, either. I am ridiculously happy." She looked at Chad and saw that he too, looked genuinely happy. "How about you? How's your packing going?"

Chad turned back to the stove. "It's going good, but it's no where near close to being finished. Thankfully I still have some time as Tay's still renovating."

Taylor and Chad's relationship had blossomed over the past years, turning into something that was strong and full of commitment. Gabriella grinned at him. "You thinking of popping the question any time soon?"

"After seeing all the stuff you and Troy went through planning your own shindig? Not likely," he joked, but the scarlet blush on his cheeks and the way his hands started shaking slightly told her another story.

"I'm really happy for you, Chad," she said earnestly and he smiled back at her.

"I'm really happy for you, too, Gabi," he responded, smiling, "but speaking of your wedding, there is an envelope on the table that might make you and my girlfriend a little frazzled."

"Oh!" Gabriella said suddenly, "that's right! Jeff mentioned this!" Walking over to the table, she picked up the iridescent envelope and tore it open. "I really, really hope this isn't from Edward's parents."

Chad shuddered. "Me and you both."

Once the envelope was opened, Gabriella saw that there was not one, but two pieces of paper inside; the RSVP card and a piece of hot pink stationary. Unfolding it, she felt a smile spread across her lips at the curly silver hand-writing on the page.

Reading over it quickly, grinning to herself, Gabriella set the paper down and looked up at a curious Chad.

"Well, it can't be from Edward's parents," he said, "cause you would not be smiling like that. Who's it from?"

Smiling slightly, Gabriella grabbed the cordless phone and began to walk out of the kitchen. "A ghost from our past," she said with a chuckle. "I have to go call Taylor and tell her that we have to change up the seating arrangements."

Chad winced. "Good luck with that one," he said and then walked over to the table and picked up the piece of paper Gabriella had abandoned.

"_Gabriella_," it said simply, "_So freaking sorry for not responding to this sooner, things have been crazy and it turns out my bitch of a neighbor has been getting my mail and only decided to tell my brother two weeks ago. He only decided to share the news yesterday. I'm surrounded by idiots, honestly. Either way, ecstatic at the news and congratulations! Any way you can squeeze in an extra spot for me and a plus one (Zeke loves weddings__—__don't ask)? I'd hate to miss this special day! Send me an e-mail regardless of the answer; it's been too long_!"

And despite everything that had happened, Chad couldn't help but smile to himself, too. Somehow, given everything, the wedding would have felt incomplete without the sparkling presence of one Sharpay Evans.

---

"I really think I should hate you for this," Gabriella said from the passenger seat of Troy's truck later that day. "I mean, I let you buy our freaking house. What if what you picked was totally ugly?"

Troy rolled his eyes as he navigated the roads. "Okay, first of all, I casually mentioned that I might have seen a place and then you promptly said that if I thought it was good, it was good and to buy it because you were too stressed out with the wedding plans to want to deal with anything else," he explained, "this has since been orchestrated into a surprise for you, something to keep your spirits up when you fight with the florist. Don't be getting all negative on me now."

Gabriella folded her arms. "Don't you throw that back in my face," she said, furrowing her brows.

"Oh yeah?" he responded, turning down the street. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"I'll be mad at you," she said simply, turning to look out the window, "and in turn, your child will be mad at you. You sure you want that?"

"Our child," he began, "would not be mad at me because he or she would know their mother was being irrational and not happy about something that was, essentially, for her own good." He reached across the seat and rubbed her stomach softly. "Isn't that right, little one?"

"Nope," Gabriella responded stubbornly, batting Troy's hand away. "We are mad at you."

"Really now?" he turned down a street that would hopefully one he would turn down many times for many more years.

"Yep," she said, noticing that they were slowly down. "Are we almost there?"

Troy turned into the driveway of his destination and grinned. "That depends," he said, cutting the engine. "You still mad at me?"

Looking through the dashboard at the house in front of her, Gabriella shook her head. "Not if this is our house."

Laughing, Troy opened his door and ran around the front of the truck to open Gabriella's. Grinning, he swept down and pecked her lips, before helping her out of the truck. "Well, then, we're here."

Gabriella looked at the house in awe. It was two stories, beautiful white brick covering the walls with ivy growing up and down the sides. A small garden filled with soft purple flowers was in the front and there was a stone path leading up to the front door. The windows were large and a huge oak three was on the front lawn. Looking to the side, she spied a small garage with a dark green door and she grinned.

"So far, you've done well, Troy," she said, taking his hand in hers. Her heart thumped as he smiled at her.

"Want to see the inside?" he whispered and she nodded, feeling anxious and excited all at once. Gripping his hand so tight her knuckles turned white, she watched as they walked up the stone path and he stopped at the door, finding the appropriate key and putting it in the lock. He turned back to smile at her.

"Ready?" he asked and she nodded, feeling her insides burst as he swung the front door open.

She gasped as they stepped inside. "Troy," she breathed. "It's...it's stunning."

And certainly it was. The house was large, slightly bigger than the red-brick house, with high ceilings and dark hardwood floors. The walls were a soft creme colour and were adorned with white crown molding. To her right was a large staircase the spiraled against the wall, leading to the second floor. She looked behind her and saw a small sitting room by the front door, and glanced down the hallway to see that it led to a living space and the kitchen. She turned to Troy, who was looking at her with expectant eyes.

"You like it?" he asked hesitantly. "It's okay?"

Feeling the tears well up in her eyes, Gabriella stepped forward and kissed him boldly before wrapping her arms around him. "It's beautiful," she answered, pressing her forehead to his shoulder. "God, it's everything I could have every asked for and more."

Running a hand through her hair, he kissed her forehead and smiled. "I saw it and I just knew that it was our home, you know? Different from what we're used to, but our home, nevertheless. It's got three baths and four bedrooms. The master bedroom is gorgeous, wait till you see how large the windows in it are."

Lifting her head, Gabriella smiled at him. "Four bedrooms? Including the master?"

Troy nodded. "Yeah," he said, "The master, one for the baby and two...two for whatever else comes along."

"Whatever else comes along?" she whispered, feeling a tear fall down her cheek. The implications of that sentence made her heart pound. Chad, Jeff, Taylor, Jason, family members, other guests. More children. Her heart swelled as he brought a hand up to wipe away a tear.

"Yeah," he whispered with a smile, "for whatever else comes along."

She kissed him soundly then and he responded back eagerly. Never would they have thought they'd end up where they were, standing in the house that would be their home. Never would they imagine they'd fall so deeply in love that the years that they would experience for the rest of their lives would be coloured by it. Never would they imagine that nestled between them was a child that would grow to be one of the most beautiful human beings they could imagine. Never would Gabriella have imagined walking down the aisle and seeing Troy standing at the end of it, even though he imagined seeing her walk towards him nearly everyday for three years.

The house would be one of love and laughter, with pictures adoring nearly every free surface they could find. Their refrigerator would be covered in Polaroids of stuffed animals in a few years and their kitchen table would occupy more than just three seats. Their parents would come for visits and offer information on tea and flowers and every holiday would be a joyous occasion. They'd burn dinners and they'd get next to no sleep when more than one family member was under the age of five in a few years, and they'd fight every now and then. But at the end of the day, they'd be in each others arms, their love stronger than they had ever imagined.

For right now, they had each other and they were each other. Everything else could wait, but it would come. Pulling away, Gabriella smiled excitedly at Troy and bounded down the hall to the kitchen. "Come on, Troy!" she said, laughing, "Let's explore!"

Chuckling to himself, he followed his fiancee into the kitchen where she was standing looking out the screen-doors to the spacious backyard. Coming up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her stomach and pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

"There's a rosebush on the side of the house, you know," he whispered, "just underneath the window of the master bedroom."

She stilled, her breath catching in her throat. "Really?" she choked out, leaning back into his chest. "What colour?"

He smiled as she rested her hands over top of his and laced her fingers with his, both of them cradling the life they had created beneath their palms. Then softly, he pressed a kiss to her ear and answered her.

"Lavender."

---

Oh wow. It's finished. I think I am going to cry.

Okay, business first. The last and final track is up at my livejournal along with a link to a download of the full mix incase you are curious and didn't download any of them (hi, Tiffany). I've also added fun album art in place of the banner...ha ha. :)

I never expected this story to garner the response that it did and I am so happy that so many of you found such enjoyment in it. Thank you to each and every one of you who read, reviewed or shared your thoughts; they mean the world to me and I'm so glad you came along this crazy adventure with myself, Troy and Gabi. You really are what kept me motivated and kept me going.

Thank you to all the girls at FF for their constant encouragement, channeling and warm welcome and the lovely ones on my LJ whose enthusiasm and friendship is wonderful. Thank you to Tiffany and Silvia, for being my Twitter cheerleaders and awesome friends. Thanks to my mom for unexpectedly reading this one evening; by the time she gets to this author note, though, I imagine this story will have been completed for some time. ;)

Thank you to Angie for following her dreams and encouraging my own. And thank you to my best friend, Jacqui, for constantly listening to me ramble about chapter plans and for being the amazing friend that you are, and for, in this case, most importantly being so borderline insane that she inspired Annabel and helped shape her into the oddity that she is.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you all.

Now I must sleep cause I have a super early staff meeting at work. :( I get free food, though.


End file.
